Uian  Dell 


THE  CONCENTRATIONS  OF  BEE 


The    Works   of 

Lilian   Bell 

rr 

Abroad  with  the  'Jimmies  $1.50 
At  Home  with  thejar  dines  1.50 
T7i<?  Concentrations  of  Bee  1.50 
Hope  Lori  ng  1.50 

Carolina  Lee  1.50 

y/z^  Interference  of  Patricia  1  .50 


c.  /MC.E:  s-  COMPANY 

New  England  Building 
Bos  ton  )  Mass. 


CONCENTRATIONS 


Frontispiece  by  cAT.  *Button 

BOSTON 

L.C.  PAGES  COMPANY0 

1909 


Copyright, 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE   &   COMPANY 
(INCORPORATED) 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 


All  rights  reserved 


First  Impression,  October,  1909 


Eltctrtlyped  and  Printed  by 
THE  COLONIAL  PRESS 
C.  H.  Simttids  (5r-  Ct.,  Boston,  U.  S.  A . 


TO 

fcleine 

WHO   IS   MORE   BELOVED   BY   HER    FRIENDS    THAN    SHE 

CAN    BE    MADE    TO    BELIEVE,    AND    TO    WHOM    THIS 

LITTLE   VOLUME    IS    DEDICATED    BECAUSE 

I   LOVE  THE   FRAGRANCE   OE   HER 

UNSELFISH   DAILY   LIFE 


(HI)?  (Eflttrcntratfottfi  of 

SCENE.      Bohemia    with   occasional    excursions    into 

High  Life 
TIME.    The  present 

fforaona  in  thr  Unrtk 

BEATRICE  LATHROP,  a  young  widow 

FAITH  JARDINE,  her  sister,  who  tells  of  the 
"  Concentrations  of  Bee  "  —  and  other  things 

AUBREY  JARDINE,  Faith's  husband,  an  "Angel" 
—  in  her  estimation,  also  a  playwright 

MR.  JIMMIE,  a  broker  of  good  heart,  with  much 
money  but  not  much  manners.  Faith's  firm  ally 

MRS.  JIMMIE,  another  "Angel" 

LAFLIN  VAN  TASSEL,  a  young  millionaire  archi 
tect  "handsome  as  Apollo" — a  pleasing  com 
bination 

BOB  MYGATT,  a  graceless  scamp  "  with  Irish  blue 
eyes."  He  is  also  a  writer  of  comic  operas 

EDWARD  MUNSON,  Bob's  cousin,  an  artist 
ELEANOR  MUNSON,  his  wife,  a  portrait  painter 

AVA  CORLISS,  "a  nice  girl"  with  a  mission,  en 
gaged  to  Bob 

"OUR  DEAR  LYDDY,"  a  rich  old  maid,  Bee's 
sister-in-law,  and  also  engaged  to  Bob 

AMY  LEVERING,  another  "nice  girl"  with  a 
different  mission 

LAURA  CLYDE,  another  girl,  not  so  "  nice  " 
HOPE  LORING,  a  heroine 
"  DUSTY  "  MILLER,  a  West  Point  cadet 
And  several  other  characters  of  less  import 
ance,  mostly  Bohemians 


Preface 

To  those  gentle  critics  and  versatile  friends 
who  persist  in  rinding  prototypes  in  real  life 
for  my  characters  in  fiction,  I  am  compelled  to 
issue  a  statement  of  facts. 

In  spite  of  complimentary  inquiries  as  to 
who  furnished  me  with  the  originals  of  each 
of  my  dear  Jimmies,  I  must  say  with  Mrs. 
Gummidge :  "  I  don't  believe  there  is  no  sich 
a  person."  If  I  did,  how  I  would  cultivate 
them  both ! 

In  like  manner,  although  I  possess  a  sister, 
she  is  not  the  Bee  of  this  story,  nor,  alas,  is 
there  any  James  or  Lyddy  or  Bob  Mygatt  or 
Laflin  Van  Tassel,  or  in  fact  anybody ! 

Nothing  in  this  story  is  real  —  tears  choke 
me  as  I  say  it !  —  except  possibly  the  automo 
bile! 


vii 


Contents 


:HAPTKR  PACK 

I.    THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIVING  i 

II.    IN  WHICH  BEE  TAKES  A  HAND      .  19 

III.  FROM  A  SISTER'S  POINT  OF  VIEW    .  39 

IV.  BEE  AND  HER  CELLARETTE       .       .  52 
V.     OUR  FIRST  STUDIO  DINNER      .       .  68 

VI.     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  SHERRY'S        .  79 

VII.    BOB'S  ENGAGEMENT     ....  96 

VIII.    NAPOLEONIC  STRATEGY       .       .       .  113 

IX.     DEVELOPMENTS 138 

X.    BEE'S  VERSION  OF  THE  VENGEANCE 

OF  THE  EIGHTH    .       .       .       .  152 
XI.    THE  WIDOW  ASSISTS  .       .       .       .163 
XII.    THE    MARRIAGE    OF    PEARL    MAR 
GUERITE          196 

XIII.  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  HUSBAND       .       .  207 

XIV.  IN  WHICH  BOB  MAKES  A  PROPOSAL 

OF  MARRIAGE       .       .       .       .222 
XV.    IN  WHICH  BOB  BEGINS  His  CAREER 

OF  MARRYING       ....  230 

XVI.    DR.  BRAGG  PLAYS  His  PART    .       .  240 
XVII.     IN  WHICH  BEE  APPLIES  A  COUNTER 

IRRITANT 264 


x  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVIII.    ELEANOR'S    RECEPTION    AND    WHAT 

CAME  OF  IT 276 

XIX.    IN  WHICH  BEE  SURMOUNTS  ANOTHER 

OBSTACLE 282 

XX.    PLANS 296 

XXI.    LYDDY'S  FIRST  AND  BOB'S  SECOND 

WEDDING         .       .       .  .     306 

XXII.    Two  WIDOWS  AND  THEIR  WORK     .     311 


The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

CHAPTER    I 

THE   PROBLEM   OF   LIVING 

"TF  our  Bee,"  said  Jimmie  to  me  one  day 
when  we  were  travelling  from  Vienna 

Jl  to  Buda-Pesth,  "  ever  concentrates  on  a 
thing,  that  thing  is  a  goner.  If  she  ever  con 
centrates  on  a  woman,  that  woman  is  a  goner. 
And  if  she  ever  concentrates  her  peculiar  men 
tal  energies  on  a  man  —  "  Jimmie  flung  up 
his  hands  —  "  God  help  him !  " 

I  have  never  mentioned  these  remarks  be 
fore,  although  they  come  back  to  me,  under 
the  present  conditions,  with  the  conviction  that 
Jimmie  is  not  nearly  the  fool  I  sometimes 
think  him,  and  also  because  I  was  not  then 
ready  to  devote  myself  to  a  description  of 
Bee's  deadly  work,  but  now  I  am.  For  an 
other  thing,  Jimmie  said  this  just  after  Bee's 
flirtations  with  the  Austrian  officers  for  mis 
sionary  purposes  and  to  spread  the  gospel  of 
the  American  woman  among  the  heathen  of 


2        The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

^— — — — — ^— — — .•— ^— ^-— ^^— — — ^— — 

foreign  lands,  so  I  simply  thought  he  was  re 
ferring  to  Bee's  admirable  target  practice  in 
bringing  down  her  victim  without  half  trying. 
Yet  I  remember  even  then  wishing  vaguely 
that  Bee  would  concentrate  on  her  husband, 
our  beloved  James,  who,  to  speak  moderately, 
was  the  most  exquisitely  disagreeable  person 
any  of  us  had  ever  met,  and  whose  chief  de 
light  was  to  see  those  around  him  made 
wretched  by  some  word  or  deed  of  his  own 
coining.  Also,  while  she  was  about  it,  I 
thought  it  would  do  no  harm  for  her  to  con 
centrate  on  Lyddy  Lathrop,  her  sister-in-law, 
our  beloved  James's  acidulous  sister.  But  I 
said  nothing  at  the  time  for  the  reason  that 
we  strove  to  bear  our  burdens  in  a  silence, 
which  if  not  dignified,  was  at  least  stoical. 
Also  for  the  reason  that  the  public  always  be 
trays  a  maudlin  sympathy  with  anyone  whom 
we,  of  the  Happy  Family  take  the  trouble  to 
dislike,  because  we  are  so  unnaturally  fierce  in 
our  fluent  denunciations  of  our  victims,  yet 
never  bother  much  to  explain  what  they  have 
done  to  incur  our  royal  displeasure. 

However,  things  have  changed.  Family 
matters  have  developed  and  become  so  public 
that  everybody  knows  why  we  ignored  the 
Lathrops  all  we  could  and  people  now  begin  to 
see  a  reason. 


The   Problem   of  Living          3 

In  the  first  place  James  has  had  the  good 
taste  to  die  —  the  only  considerate  thing  I 
ever  remember  his  doing,  and  knowing  how 
much  pleasure  this  one  act  would  confer  on 
all  his  relatives,  he  deferred  it  as  long  as  pos 
sible.  However  he  did  die  after  all,  but  we 
never  dreamed  how  mean  he  was  going  to  be 
about  it  until  after  his  will  was  read.  Then, 
nobody  ever  said  to  any  of  us  again,  "  My 
dear,  how  can  you  say  such  things?  "  because 
they  were  occupied  in  saying  things  about  him 
just  as  bad,  or  worse. 

There's  a  good  deal  in  having  public  sym 
pathy  with  you,  even  if  it  is  unintelligent.  It 
saves  many  tiresome  explanations. 

James  died  just  a  few  weeks  after  the  Angel 
and  I  went  abroad,  so  I  had  not  seen  my  sister 
since  her  liberation,  nor  did  we  obtain  any 
clear  idea  of  how  the  property  was  left  until 
we  came  home,  for  Bee  likes  to  have  her  sur 
prises  complete  and  dramatic. 

In  one  way  or  another  the  Jimmies  had  also 
been  prevented  from  seeing  her,  so  that  we 
were  all  on  the  qui  vive,  which,  knowing  Bee, 
must  have  suited  her  exactly. 

I  knew  that  by  the  fact  that  she  allowed  her 
self  to  be  called  out  of  town  the  day  before  we 
landed,  leaving  only  a  letter  to  greet  our  re 
turn. 


4       The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

As  for  us  we  had  just  come  home  from  a 
year  in  Europe,  where  the  Angel  had  been 
seeking  local  colour  for  a  new  play.  We 
didn't  really  go  because  we  wanted  local  col 
our.  We  went  because  Peach  Orchard  bored 
the  life  out  of  us  after  the  new  wore  off. 
Country  life  is  really  more  to  be  admired  than 
enjoyed,  especially  by  such  as  the  Angel  and 
I,  who  are  unhappy  unless  we  can  see  the  lights 
of  Broadway  by  going  on  the  roof. 

We  were,  of  course,  stony  broke.  I  hate 
people  who  come  home  from  Europe  with 
money.  It  shows  that  they  don't  know  how 
to  enjoy  themselves. 

But  being  impecunious  did  not  worry  us  at 
first.  We  knew  that  all  we  had  to  do  was  to 
show  the  new  play  to  any  one  of  the  eager 
managers,  who  ought  to  have  been  at  the  pier 
to  meet  us  and  so  secure  a  first  chance  at  the 
"  masterpiece." 

So  we  went  to  an  hotel  where  we  had  suf 
ficient  credit  not  to  be  invited  to  pay  a  month's 
rent  in  advance  and  the  Angel  jauntily  sub 
mitted  his  play  to  the  manager  who  had  made 
a  neat  little  fortune  out  of  our  first  play  and 
who  almost  lost  the  shoes  off  his  feet  on  the 
second.  He  returned  it  after  some  delay  in 
dicating  the  changes  to  be  made.  Indignantly 


The   Problem   of  Living          5 

the  Angel  took  it  to  a  second  manager  and 
then  to  a  third. 

Finally  in  the  fourth  week  of  our  credit  at 
the  hotel,  the  Angel  decided  to  make  the 
changes  insisted  upon  by  our  first  manager. 
But  alas  this  would  take  at  least  a  month !  In 
the  meantime  where  was  the  money  to  live  on, 
coming  from? 

We  decided  that  we  must  go  to  housekeep 
ing.  The  tenants  of  Peach  Orchard  were  hard 
up  and  paid  their  rent  whenever  they  could. 
We  tried  them,  but  it  was  like  tapping  a  vac 
uum.  We  couldn't  turn  them  out  because  they 
owed  us  too  much  money.  Besides  we  didn't 
want  to  stay  in  the  country  in  the  winter  any 
way. 

We  looked  everywhere  for  an  apartment 
but  the  Subway  had  raised  rents  appallingly. 
It  was  now  the  twenty-ninth  day  of  our  credit. 
I  suggested  borrowing  money.  The  Angel 
shook  his  head. 

"  If  we  borrow  of  our  personal  friends,  we 
should  lose  them.  You  can't  stay  friendly 
with  people  you  have  borrowed  money  from." 

"  It  would  be  a  nice  comfortable  way  to  end 
certain  friendships,"  I  observed  thoughtfully. 
"  Now  there's  Elkinson.  Borrow  a  hundred 
of  him  and  then  we  won't  have  to  know  him." 


6       The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  But  I  thought  you  liked  his  wife,"  ob 
jected  the  Angel. 

"  That's  so,  I  do.  Men  who  are  good  for 
nothing  but  to  borrow  money  from,  always 
have  wives  too  nice  to  be  sacrificed." 

We  ran  over  a  list  of  our  friends,  and  put 
prices  on  our  estimate  of  them,  but  finally  gave 
up  the  idea.  There  was  always  the  fear  that 
they  might  refuse  and  then  we  should  hate 
them  so  we'd  have  to  give  them  up  anyway. 

"  I  heard  to-day  that  there  was  a  new  artist 
studio  building  just  finished  that  Munson  and 
Fanshaw  and  McElroy  and  several  others  had 
clubbed  together  and  built.  Suppose  you  go 
and  see  what's  to  do,"  said  the  Angel. 

Now  Munson  and  his  wife,  both  artists, 
were  jewels  in  our  crown.  They  were  almost 
as  useful  to  us  for  literary  purposes  as  the 
Jimmies,  so  I  rushed  around  to  this  building 
and  found  it  to  be  the  most  blissful  spot  I  had 
ever  seen.  The  top  studio  was  Munson's. 
Half  of  his  furniture  had  been  moved  in  and 
was  piled  hither  and  yon  with  no  care  for  the 
fine  pieces  and  looking  even  more  topsy-turvy 
than  necessary. 

But  alas  for  the  Jardines,  there  was  nothing 
to  sublet.  It  had  been  a  good  year  for  artists 
and  they  were  all  disgustingly  paid  up,  conse 
quently  haughty. 


The  Problem  of  Living  7 

As  I  came  down  in  the  elevator,  there  stood 
Munson  waiting  to  go  up. 

He  was  very  tall  and  thin  and  wore  a  frock 
coat  and  silk  hat  that  ended  somewhere  among 
the  rafters. 

"  Do  I  smell  of  mothballs  ?  "  he  said  with 
out  preface.  We  had  not  met  for  over  a  year. 

I  sniffed  delicately. 

"  No  more  than  most  of  us  do  at  this  sea 
son,"  I  said,  breaking  it  to  him  as  gently  as  I 
could. 

"  I  hope  it  isn't  very  bad  —  "  he  began  anx 
iously. 

"  Well,  in  the  open  air  —  " 

"  That's  just  it !  It  will  be  in  a  close  room. 
We  are  going  to  lunch  at  the  Waldorf  with 
Frau  Polisky  of  the  Grand  Opera.  In  her 
private  suite.  My  wife  is  going  to  paint  her. 
It's  a  fortunate  thing  that  one  of  us  can  make 
money." 

"What's  the  matter?" 

"  My  pictures  were  skied,  and  the  mural 
paintings  I  did  for  McGinnis'  library  are  all 
done,  but  he  went  to  Egypt  for  the  winter 
before  they  were  completed  and  won't  pay  for 
them  until  he  has  seen  them.  Result  we  are 
broke,  stony  broke  and  shall  be  for  three 
months." 

"  Munson,"  I  observed  feelingly.     "  There 


8        The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

are  but  three  square  meals  between  us  and  the 
poorhouse." 

"  Is  that  so !  "  exclaimed  Munson  with  in 
terest.  "  Let's  go  up  to  the  studio  and  organ 
ize  ourselves  into  a  Ways  and  Means  Com 
mittee." 

"  Now,"  he  said,  politely  standing  until  I 
had  seated  myself  upon  a  cracker  box.  "  How 
is  it  with  you?  " 

When  I  had  told  him,  Munson  smoked 
thoughtfully  for  a  moment.  Then  he  said: 

"  I  see  no  way  out  of  it  but  for  you  to  sub 
let  this  apartment." 

"  It  would  be  beautiful,"  I  said,  "  but  what 
would  you  do?  And  what  are  you  going  to 
do  with  all  this  furniture?" 

"  Our  plans  are  all  made.  We  shall  stay 
where  we  are  and  only  come  to  town  to  paint. 
Eleanor  has  the  studio  next  this.  As  for  the 
furniture,  can't  you  use  some  of  it  ?  I  thought 
you  sold  your  kitchen  utensils  and  everything 
that  was  not  worth  storing?" 

"  We  did." 

"  Well,  use  ours.  It  will  save  our  having 
to  store  them  or  move  them  to  the  country 
where  we  don't  need  them." 

"  But  —  "  I  said. 

He  waved  me  to  silence. 


The  Problem  of  Living  9 

"  Now,  as  I  said,  Eleanor  has  this  next 
studio  —  " 

"  But  you  can't  both  use  that,"  I  inter 
rupted. 

"  Wait.  You  and  Aubrey  take  this  apart 
ment.  I  have  held  it  at  three  thousand  dollars. 
I'll  let  you  have  it  for  twenty-four  hundred. 
Two  hundred  a  month,  payable  in  hundred 
dollar  instalments  on  the  first  and  fifteenth  of 
every  month." 

"  Nice  and  easy,"  I  said.     "  We'll  take  it." 

"  Good.  Now  then,  as  you  are  out  every 
morning  anyway,  I'll  sub-sublet  this  studio 
room  from  you  until  two  o'clock  every  day, 
for  fifty  dollars  a  month.  That  will  let  me 
work  all  I  need  to  and  will  give  you  a  drawing 
room  every  afternoon  and  evening  and  all  day 
Sundays." 

I  began  to  laugh. 

"  Let's  pay  each  other  in  advance,"  I  said 
gurgling.  "  I'll  send  you  a  cheque  to-night." 

"  And  I  you,"  he  answered.  A  pause. 
Then  he  said : 

"  Excuse  me  for  asking,  but  will  your 
cheque  be  good  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  replied  with  spirit. 
"Will  yours?" 

"  Alas,  I  am  afraid  not." 


IO      The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  But  it  will  be  a  nice  way  to  exchange  au 
tographs,"  I  said.  "  Girls  generally  want  Au 
brey  to  add  a  sentiment  when  they  ask  for  his. 
Shall  he  add  a  sentiment  to  your  cheque?" 

"  It  would  do  no  harm !  " 

"  Then  we  can  paste  these  cheques  on  our 
mirrors  until  they  are  negotiable.  The  mere 
possession  of  them  will  increase  our  assets." 

"  You  are  a  business  woman,"  observed 
Munson  writh  admiration. 

"  Now,  there  is  but  one  thing  more  to  do," 
he  said,  presently  when  we  had  both  ruminated 
upon  this  pleasant  solution  of  our  difficulties, 
"  and  that  is  for  one  of  us  to  borrow  some 
money." 

"  It  will  have  to  be  you,  then,"  I  said  rue 
fully.  "  We  have  no  securities  that  are  not 
already  punched  full  of  pinholes." 

"  I  have  never  borrowed  any  money  on  my 
stock  in  this  building,"  observed  Munson 
thoughtfully. 

"  Then  do  it  this  minute,"  I  cried  raptu 
rously. 

'  The  only  trouble  is,"  he  paused  to  roll  a 
fresh  cigarette,  "  that  I  have  lost  the  certifi 
cate." 

"  Won't  they  give  you  another  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  it  will  take  time  and  then  it  would 
have  to  be  marked  '  duplicate '  and  the  bank 


The  Problem  of  Living          1 1 

might  hesitate  to  accept  it.  And  all  that  would 
cause  delay,  whereas  our  necessities  are  im 
mediate." 

"Then  find  the  first  one!  That's  the  an 
swer  to  that!" 

"  I  have  looked  everywhere.  I  think  I  shall 
consult  a  clairvoyant." 

I  shrieked  with  laughter. 

"  They  do  help  one  to  find  things,"  he  said 
solemnly. 

Then  seeing  that  I  continued  to  rock  and 
roar  he  said  reproachfully: 

"  If  she  helps  me  to  find  it  and  I  should  lend 
you  enough  money  to  make  your  cheque  good, 
would  you  stop  laughing?  " 

My  teeth  came  together  with  a  snap  which 
nearly  made  me  owe  the  dentist  also. 

"  '  What  would  you  do  for  ten  thousand 
dollars  ?  I'd  hate  to  tell  you,' "  I  quoted 
gravely. 

As  the  clairvoyant  lived  near,  I  promised 
to  wait  and  while  Munson  was  gone  I  wan 
dered  over  the  apartment  and  placed  the  furni 
ture  in  my  mind's  eye. 

He  soon  came  back  with  a  grin  on  his  face. 

"  She  told  me  everything  —  described  me 
and  Eleanor  and  said  we  were  artists,  that  I 
had  lost  a  valuable  paper  that  I  wanted  to 
borrow  money  on,  described  my  desk  at  home 


12      The  Concentrations   of  Bee 

where  I  thought  I  had  put  it,  the  disorder  of 
it,  and  said  the  thing  was  not  lost.  She  told 
me  where  to  look  for  it,  '  but,'  she  said,  '  your 
fellow  artists  will  be  much  annoyed  if  you  hy 
pothecate  your  stock.  Don't  do  it.  You  can 
get  the  money  in  another  way.  There  is  a 
friend  of  yours,  a  slim,  boyish  looking  man 
who  knows  you  own  this  stock,  who  will  lend 
you  money  on  your  own  note.' ' 

"  That  describes  Aubrey !  "  I  cried  in  hor 
ror. 

"  Who  will  lend  me  money  on  my  note?  " 
cried  Munson. 

"  That's  so.  I  forgot  that  part  of  the  de 
scription,"  I  said.  "  Well,  who  can  it  be?  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  who  it  is.  He  has  offered  to 
buy  my  stock." 

'  Then  go  to  him  this  minute !  "  I  cried. 

"  It's  too  late  to-day.  I'll  go  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning.  Now  I  must  go  and  get  some 
thing  to  eat.  I  haven't  had  any  lunch." 

"  It's  three  o'clock,"  I  said.  "  I  thought 
you  were  to  lunch  at  the  Waldorf  with  your 
wife  and  Frau  Pol i sky." 

"  I  forgot  all  about  it,"  he  said  simply. 
"  Well,  Eleanor  won't  be  surprised.  When  we 
are  at  work  Eleanor  and  I  often  go  without 
lunches  altogether  because  it's  too  much 
trouble  to  go  out." 


The   Problem   of  Living         13 

Now,  I  not  being  a  genius,  was  shocked,  my 
housewifely  instinct  being  aroused. 

"  You  might  take  your  lunches  with  me,"  I 
suggested.  "  Then  you  would  get  them  regu 
larly." 

"  You  are  awfully  kind,  but  when  Eleanor 
has  a  sitter,  or  I  have  a  model,  we  couldn't 
spare  the  time  to  go." 

"  Then  I'll  send  them  in  on  trays  and  you 
can  nibble  as  you  work.  Just  salads  and  fruit 
and  milk." 

"The  very,  very  thing!"  cried  Munson, 
with  the  first  and  only  enthusiasm  I  had  ever 
seen  in  him.  "  That  is  the  only  thing  neces 
sary  to  complete  my  happiness." 

"  And,"  I  continued,  beaming,  "  when  you 
want  to  stay  in  town  for  the  night,  I'll  lend 
you  those  two  big  couches  of  mine  that  you 
can  roll  into  Eleanor's  studio." 

Munson  rose. 

"  It  was  Fate  that  sent  you  here  to-day," 
he  said,  "  and  that  made  me  forget  to  lunch 
at  the  Waldorf.  I  came  down  frightfully  dis 
couraged  this  morning  thinking  that  I'd  be 
compelled  to  rent  this  apartment  to  a  stranger, 
and  it  was  like  the  thought  of  parting  with 
a  friend.  Now,  I  have  all  the  use  of  it  I 
need  and  all  the  comforts  of  a  home  thrown 
in." 


14     The    Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  I  must  go  home  and  tell  Aubrey  to  make 
out  your  cheque,"  I  said. 

He  shook  hands  with  me  and  rubbed  his 
silk  hat  with  his  sleeve,  thereby  making  it 
worse. 

"  If  I  get  that  money,  tell  the  old  man  I'll 
lend  him  five  hundred,"  said  Munson. 

We  parted,  mutually  pleased  with  each 
other. 

When  I  told  Aubrey,  he  expanded  in  a 
silent  grin. 

"  There  were  once  two  impecunious  fami 
lies,"  he  observed,  "  who  sought  to  support 
themselves  by  taking  in  each  other's  washing." 

"  That  is  a  vulgar  translation  of  an  idyl  in 
high  finance,"  I  said.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  had  sim 
ply  solved  the  problem  of  living." 

But  I  propose  and  Bee  disposes. 

In  all  this  I  had  carelessly  omitted  to  take 
into  consideration  the  fact  that  my  sister's 
year  of  widowhood  was  over  and  that  she 
would  soon  be  at  liberty  to  take  the  helm  of 
our  ship  of  state,  so  to  speak. 

Jimmie  was  the  first  to  mention  it.  When 
we  went,  fairly  bubbling,  to  tell  them  the  news, 
he  frowned  a  little  because  we  had  not  come 
to  him  first,  but  when  he  saw  our  faces  begin 
to  go  red,  he  changed  his  tactics  to  a  more 
efficacious  protest. 


The    Problem   of  Living         15 

"  When  is  Bee  coming  back  ?  "  he  asked. 

Unsuspiciously  I  answered. 

"  In  about  a  week !  " 

"  Does  she  know  what  you  have  planned  ?  " 

"  No,  but  —  "  I  began  blithely. 

Then  I  remembered  Bee's  executive  ability 
and  my  face  fell.  Whereat  Jimmie  grinned 
prodigiously,  and  felt  that  he  was  avenged 
because  we  didn't  go  to  him  when  we  needed 
money. 

But  our  view  of  Bee  deserves  an  explana 
tion.  Most  persons  consider  my  sister  Bee  a 
very  exclusive  and  haughty  individual  simply 
because  she  has  some  respect  for  her  own  per 
sonality.  She  does  not  claim  to  come  under 
the  head  of  the  genus  hoi-polloi.  She  does 
not  go  through  life  clapping  her  men  friends 
on  the  back  and  kissing  her  women  friends 
simply  to  show  a  degree  of  familiarity  which 
she  does  not  feel  nor  aspire  to.  Bee  is  digni 
fied,  cool,  firm,  diplomatic  and  ambitious.  She 
is  also  worldly  and  philosophical. 

On  the  other  hand  she  is  tender  hearted  to 
her  own,  with  a  supreme  capacity  for  love; 
loyal  unto  death,  as  grateful  for  kindness  as 
an  Indian  and  equally  as  just  in  returning  it. 
Her  generosity  is  tempered  by  a  nice  study  of 
her  own  resources.  Consequently  she  never 
has  to  lie  awake  nights  vainly  lamenting  rash 


1 6      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

gifts  of  money  poignantly  needed  for  daily 
bread  like  some  people  I  could  mention. 

But  of  all  her  characteristics,  two  stand  out 
with  salient  distinctness.  One,  her  diplomatic 
domination  of  home,  family,  friends,  acquaint 
ances  and  circumstances.  The  other  her  iron, 
unswerving,  relentless,  soundless  determina 
tion  to  do  —  to  quote  Jimmie  —  as  she  jolly 
well  pleases.  Only  he  does  not  say  "  jolly 
well." 

Again  to  qualify.  By  that  I  do  not  mean 
that  she  defies  public  opinion  by  impulsive  or 
unconventional  acts.  Far  from  it.  Bee  would 
suffer  boredom  until  she  ached  before  she 
would  yawn  frankly  in  a  dull  man's  face.  She 
is  conventionality  itself  to  all  outward  appear 
ances.  Perfectly  circumspect,  perfectly  turned 
out,  perfectly  correct  in  manner,  dress  and 
conversation  is  our  Bee.  But  if  she  should  be 
invited  to  spend  a  month  in  a  friend's  house, 
and  the  wall  paper  in  her  friend's  private  bou 
doir  did  not  please  Bee's  fastidious  taste,  she 
would  so  manipulate  her  friend's  mental  per 
spective  that  the  wall  paper  would  come  under 
derision.  Then  it  would  be  decided  to  change 
it  and  Bee  would  be  employed  to  drive  down 
and  help  her  friend  select  a  different  sort. 
But,  such  is  Bee's  genius,  to  the  day  of  her 
victim's  death,  she  would  never  suspect  that 


The  Problem  of  Living         17 

she  had  been  the  subject  of  mental  sugges 
tion. 

What  do  you  call  that? 

I  call  it  a  genius  for  administration.  Bee 
never  offends  nor  affronts  the  most  sensitive 
vanity.  Never  wounds  the  most  quivering 
Ego.  Things  simply  go  Bee's  way.  That's 
all. 

And  because  Bee  refuses  to  be  drawn  into 
the  maelstrom  of  another's  life  and  declines 
to  be  a  straw  on  another's  whirlpool,  undis- 
criminating  persons  call  her  cold  and  selfish. 
Bee's  selfishness  is  simply  selfpreservation. 
She  protects  her  own  individuality.  She  de 
clines  to  suffer  the  vicarious  wear  and  tear  of 
those  who  precipitate  themselves  into  the  lives 
of  others. 

Yet  she  is  capable  of  single,  distinguished 
acts  of  goodness  —  of  following  out  occasional 
human  clews  in  a  manner  highly  to  her  credit. 
Indeed  Bee  is  a  woman  of  remarkable  charac 
ter  and  in  spite  of  all  the  fun  we  make  of  her, 
we  never  do  things  without  her  advice  that 
we  are  not  sorry  for  it,  so  that  after  all,  it 
really  is  more  comfortable  to  let  her  run 
things.  We  have  all  the  fun  we  want  in  regis 
tering  kicks  against  her  authority  and  then 
meekly  yielding  to  her  administration. 

Aubrey,  however,  being  an  in-law,   some- 


1 8     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

times  resents  my  habit  of  yielding  to  her  judg 
ment  and  therefore,  to  my  intense  surprise, 
for  on  Jimmie's  hint  I  was  perfectly  willing 
to  wait  and  consult,  he  went  the  next  day  and 
signed  the  lease  with  Munson. 

When  he  told  me  I  gasped. 

"  Where  did  you  get  the  money,  dear?  "  I 
cried. 

"  I  always  have  money,"  said  Aubrey, 
loftily  displaying  a  large  roll  of  bills.  I  have 
always  suspected  that  he  got  them  all  in  ones 
just  to  impress  me. 

I  smiled  at  his  reply.  Then  I  found  out  that 
he  had  got  it  by  mortgaging  his  peace  of  mind 
for  a  year  and  agreeing  to  change  his  play  to 
suit  a  manager,  fat  of  purse  but  lean  of  mind. 

Thus  did  the  Angel  purchase  liberty  of  one 
sort  by  the  sale  of  freedom  of  another. 


CHAPTER   II 

IN   WHICH    BEE  TAKES   A   HAND 

I  REPEAT  I  had  not  seen  my  sister  since 
her  husband  died  until  she  met  us  in  New 
York. 

Now,  as  I  have  said,  one  of  Bee's  salient 
characteristics  is  that  she  is  always  perfectly 
garbed  for  the  time  and  place,  so  that  the 
moment  I  looked  at  her  clothes,  I  realized 
that  a  year  had  passed  since  she  went  into 
black. 

When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  mourning 
clothes  are  supremely  vulgar.  They  are  a 
mental  speedometer.  By  them  you  can  gauge 
the  flight  of  time  and  the  pace  of  your  grief. 

The  first  few  months  your  deep  bands  of 
crape  say :  "  I  am  feeling  very  miserable  in 
deed.  My  grief  is  poignant.  I  suffer." 

Then  as  your  note  paper  gives  you  more 
room  to  write,  it  seems  to  say :  "  I  am  feeling 
better.  I  do  not  grieve  as  much.  I  am  begin 
ning  to  forget." 

Then  you  leave  off  crape  and  appear  only  in 
dull  black  with  no  jewels  and  your  speedome- 
'9 


2O     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

ter  registers :  "  Many  miles  have  been  tra 
versed  from  that  open  grave.  We  are  nearing 
the  frontier  of  a  new  country." 

Then  finally  you  leave  off  black  and  blossom 
forth  in  pastel  shades  and  lo!  You  are  over 
the  border.  You  indicate  to  the  world  that 
your  dead  is  forgotten. 

Is  this  not  vulgar  as  well  as  cruel  and  often 
untrue  ? 

Many  bands  of  crape  are  worn  for  un- 
mourned  dead  and  much  crape  is  finally  laid 
aside  from  wounds  which  never  cease  to 
ache. 

When  will  this  unnatural  custom  be  discon 
tinued  among  the  civilized? 

Bee  never  puts  on,  except  to  the  public  and 
then  only  to  appease  the  public's  own  opinion. 
Her  husband  had  been  a  nuisance  both  to  him 
self  and  to  others,  so  that  Bee's  mourning 
merely  consisted  of  a  discreet  dropping  of  the 
eyes  whenever  his  name  was  mentioned,  a  fin 
gering  of  the  black  bordered  handkerchief  and 
perfectly  irreproachable  clothes. 

How  she  managed  this  last  we  never  knew, 
because  she  decried  the  act  of  a  friend  of  ours 
who  was  so  willing  to  part  with  her  husband 
that  she  ordered  her  mourning  tentatively  the 
first  day  the  doctor  pronounced  his  case  hope 
less. 


In  Which  Bee  Takes  a  Hand  21 

Bee  disapproved  of  that.  She  said  it  was 
heartless  and  —  unnecessary. 

It  was  unnecessary  for  Bee,  for  all  I  could 
ever  detect  in  her  irreproachable  behaviour 
during  her  brief  but  volcanic  married  life, 
were  lightning  glances  shot  at  every  mourn 
ing  bonnet  we  saw  —  glances  so  comprehen 
sive  that  they  served  Bee's  purpose,  yet  so 
swift,  that  no  one  saw  them  but  Jimmie  and 
Aubrey. 

But  neither  blamed  Bee.  Her  husband  was 
also  named  James,  but  we  are  all  quite  sure 
that  nobody  ever  liked  him  well  enough  to  call 
him  Jim. 

James  had  been  tall,  thin,  transparent,  with 
damp  hands,  wispy  hair  and  a  long,  cold,  red 
nose.  It  was  not  the  convivial  cup  which  had 
slightly  reddened  that  unamiable  member  of 
James'  features.  As  Jimmie  said,  we  could 
have  forgiven  him  if  it  had  been  —  but  James' 
nose  was  the  thin,  red  nose  of  righteousness 
and  acquisitiveness.  He  simply  loved  to  be 
disagreeable,  and  in  addition  he  was  rich  and 
close.  Which  to  the  Jimmies,  the  Jardines, 
and  Bee,  were  three  unpardonable  crimes.  We 
all  loved  good  humour.  Whenever  we  had 
money  we  strove  to  part  with  it  as  quickly  and 
buoyantly  as  possible  and  we  never  even  kept 
the  change. 


22      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Therefore  we  thought  it  quite  handsome  of 
James  to  leave  us  to  our  own  devices  and  go 
where  he  would  be  more  appreciated. 

He  left  but  one  blood  relative,  a  sister.  She 
was  just  like  James  except  that  his  face  was 
yellow  and  hers  was  blotched  with  red.  But 
she  was  just  as  acidulous  and  the  only  time 
either  of  them  ever  smiled  was  after  a  remark 
or  act  which  had  made  someone  writhe. 

James'  sister  was  named  Lydia  —  James  al 
ways  called  her  —  "  Lyddy  "  —  and  she  was  a 
hopeful  spinster.  Knowing  that  Bee  did  not 
care  for  her,  James  gave  Lydia  a  home  with 
them,  which  made  my  sister  more  wretched 
than  anything  in  the  world  except  an  ill  fitting 
gown.  Thus  Bee  spent  as  much  time  away 
from  her  husband  and  charming  sister-in-law 
as  possible,  and  we  profited  by  her  most  agree 
able  companionship  in  consequence. 

The  estate  had  been  long  in  settling  and  at 
first  it  was  thought  there  was  no  will,  but 
finally  one  was  discovered  and  it  was  Bee  who 
told  me  of  its  contents  by  word  of  mouth.  She 
never  wrote  to  us  about  it  while  we  were  in 
Europe.  Bee  writes  the  funniest  letters  I  ever 
read  in  my  life.  In  one  that  I  received  in  Po 
land  she  said :  "  James  lies  snoring  on  the 
couch  in  the  library  as  I  write.  My  life  is 
filled  with  just  such  poetry  and  romance." 


In  Which  Bee  Takes  a  Hand  23 

Which  was  a  sample  of  her  courage  and  sense 
of  humour.  She  never  complained  of  him. 
As  she  said :  "  I  had  eyes  and  ears,  and  it  was 
all  my  fault."  So  then,  she  was  too  just  to 
take  it  out  either  on  him  or  others. 

In  her  place,  I  should  have  been  a  widow 
earlier. 

But  Bee  is  very  just.  She  let  him  have  his 
chance  to  live. 

Bee  had  been  called  away  on  business  when 
we  arrived,  so  that  we  had  been  back  from 
Europe  several  weeks  before  we  met. 

She  was  most  impressive,  but  although  she 
was  doubtless  as  anxious  to  talk  of  her  own 
affairs  as  I  was  to  hear  her,  she  asked  all  about 
us  and  our  travels,  before  she  permitted  her 
own  plans  to  obsess  her  entire  being. 

Finally  I  took  the  plunge. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  live,  Bee?  " 

"  Here  in  New  York!  "  said  Bee,  with  scin- 
tillant  eyes.  "  Where  else  in  Heaven's  name 
would  anyone  want  to  live  ?  " 

"  And  we  heard  that  a  will  was  found  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  a  most  complete  will,  with  every 
thing  arranged  just  as  James  wished  to  leave 
things  after  him." 

"Just  as  he  wished  them  to  be!"  I  cried. 
"  Then  —  " 

"  Exactly!  "  said  Bee,  evenly.     "  '  The  evil 


24      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

that  men  do  lives  after  them ! '  with  a  ven 
geance  in  this  case.  I  don't  —  really  don't  see 
how  he  managed  to  arrange  everything  in  so 
complete  a  manner.  He  must  have  planned  it 
for  years." 

My  heart  sank.  Too  well,  knowing  our 
dear  James,  I  knew  what  that  meant. 

"  But  the  house  in  Charityville,"  I  said. 
"  I  thought  he  wanted  you  to  live  there.  How 
do  you  get  around  that  ?  " 

"  I  got  Lyddy's  consent  to  live  here  instead. 
Anything  that  I  can  get  her  to  do,  can  be  done. 
She  is  sole  executrix  —  as  well  as  residuary 
legatee." 

"  Oh,  Bee !  "  I  cried  impulsively.  "  I  am  so 
sorry  for  you !  " 

"  Thanks,  dear,"  said  Bee,  smiling  bravely. 
"  But  I  have  had  a  year  in  which  to  be  —  not 
exactly  reconciled,  but  accustomed  to  the 
thought.  James  must  have  been  planning 
things  for  years." 

"  How  are  things  left  ?  " 

"  It  is  as  pretty  a  plot  as  you  would  ever 
wish  to  see  —  "  began  Bee,  smiling. 

"  You  mean  where  James  is  buried  ?  " 

"  No,  I  mean  the  way  he  left  things.  My 
good  husband  must  have  cherished  quite  an 
active  grudge  against  me  to  have  got  his  own 
consent  to  take  so  long  a  chance." 


In   Which  Bee  Takes  a  Hand  25 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  I  said  impa 
tiently.  "  Get  along  with  your  story!  " 

"  You  know  how  —  how  thrifty  James  was 
when  it  came  to  parting  with  money  ?  "  in 
quired  Bee. 

"  I  know  it  used  to  take  the  skin  off  his  palm 
when  anybody  could  pry  his  hand  loose  from 
a  dollar,"  I  said  crossly. 

"  Well,  before  his  death,  he  gave  —  actually 
gave  to  Lyddy  all  his  interest-bearing  income- 
producing  effects,  so  that  —  " 

"What?" 

"  Exactly !  I  had  to  take  my  widow's  third 
out  of  the  Kokomo  Land  Company  —  in  other 
words,  I  can  get  practically  nothing  until  that 
huge,  unproductive  tract  of  land  is  sold, 
and  —  " 

"And  what?"  I  cried. 

"  Lyddy  doesn't  care  to  sell !  " 

I  sat  a  moment  in  silence. 

"  Why  Bee,  where  does  that  leave  you?" 

"  Practically  at  Lyddy's  mercy.  At  his 
death,  Lyddy  was  rich,  James  land  poor.  He 
had  given  her  every  valuable  thing  in  his  pos 
session  in  order  to  cheat  me  out  of  an  in 
come  !  " 

This  news  was  so  overwhelming  that  I  could 
think  of  nothing  to  say.  But  Bee,  having  had, 
as  she  remarked,  a  year  in  which  to  accus- 


26      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

torn  herself  to  the  situation,  had  found  her 
tongue. 

Therefore  she  proceeded. 

"  I  have  had  the  best  lawyers  in  such  mat 
ters  at  work  ever  since  I  discovered  the  situa 
tion,  and  on  all  sides  I  find  evidences  of  the 
far-reachingness  of  his  revenge." 

"  But  his  revenge  for  what?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  think,"  said  Bee,  slowly,  "  that  he  was 
vexed  because  I  could  enjoy  myself  in  spite  of 
him.  I  believe  he  was  jealous  because  we  — 
all  of  us  —  could  get  away  from  him  and  have 
fun  out  of  everything.  I  think  he  hated  laugh 
ter  and  light  heartedness  and  I  know  he  hated 
people  with  a  sense  of  humour.  You  remem 
ber  how  particularly  he  disliked  Jimmie?" 

"And  me!"  I  said  grimly.  "He  used  to 
look  as  though  he  would  enjoy  throwing  rocks 
at  us  when  we  howled  about  nothing  at  all  — 
which  to  me  is  one  of  the  joys  of  living." 

"  I  know  it  is.  And  you  have  largely  taught 
that  view  to  me.  Anyhow,  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  you  and  the  Jimmies,  I  couldn't  have  stood 
it  —  I'd  have  gone  mad." 

"  It's  too  bad  James  was  what  he  was,"  I 
said  mournfully.  "  We'd  have  been  so  glad  to 
take  him  on,  if  he'd  been  a  decent  sort.  But 
he  was  —  he  was  —  ' 

"  I  know,"  said  Bee  evenly.    "  He  was!  " 


In  Which   Bee  Takes  a  Hand    27 

"  Well,  but  how  are  you  going  to  live?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Oh,"  said  Bee.  "  I  have  something  —  a 
tiny  income,  a  third  of  the  furniture,  a  third 
of  James'  personal  effects  — 

"  A  third  of  his  old  clothes !  "  I  suggested 
ironically. 

Bee  smiled. 

"  Quite  so !    And  —  " 

"  Well,  go  on !    What  are  you  smiling  at  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  so  impatient,"  said  Bee. 

"  But  you  are  so  slow !  "  I  cried. 

"  Well,  —  Lyddy  has  aspirations.  It's  too 
funny,"  she  went  on  hurriedly,  seeing  by  my 
lowering  brow  that  I  still  did  not  understand 
and  would  not  have  much  more  circumlocu 
tion  —  Bee  does  love  to  produce  an  effect !  - 
"  but  Lyddy  too,  has  evidently  been  jealous 
all  the  time,  of  our  fun,  for  she  proposes  to 
temporize  —  she  practically  offers  to  put  the 
Kokomo  land  on  the  market,  if  I  will,  as  she 
puts  it,  '  live  under  the  same  roof  with  her/ 
which  I  translate  to  mean  —  " 

"  Not  that  we'll  have  to  take  Lyddy  on!  " 
I  whispered  in  a  horror  so  actual  and  so  ex 
cruciating  that  Bee  must  have  been  deeply 
pleased  at  the  genuineness  of  my  emotion. 

Bee  took  her  lower  lip  between  her  teeth 
and  slowly  nodded  her  head. 


28       The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  flung  myself  face  downward  on  the  couch. 

"  Oh,  don't  cry ! "  said  Bee  anxiously. 
"  Have  you  lost  all  faith  in  me?  Don't  you 
know  that  I  still  propose  to  —  to  manage  mat 
ters  somewhat?  " 

"  I  cannot  see  'one  thing  beyond  the  fact  that 
Lyddy  Lathrop  is  the  most  unalterably  dis 
agreeable  person  I  ever  knew  in  my  life  and 
that  the  fact  of  her  wanting  to  come  with  us 
would  destroy  every  vestige  of  my  enjoyment 
in  life.  All  I've  got  left  is  Aubrey!  " 

"True!  "  said  Bee.  "You've  got  him  and 
she  can't  get  him  away  from  you  nor  even 
crowd  in  between.  But  Faith  —  " 

"What?" 

"  Listen  a  minute." 

"  I'm  listening,  but  I  must  say  that  I  don't 
see  a  way  out  of  it  for  —  any  of  us.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  first  ?  " 

"  I  am  supposed  to  be  moving  at  this  very 
minute,"  said  my  sister  calmly. 

"Moving!"  I  cried  explosively.  "Where 
to?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  Where  are  you 
going  to  live?  In  a  hotel  or  an  apartment? 
Or  a  house?  Near  here?  " 

"  Don't  stop,  Faith !  "  said  Bee.  "  It's  sheer 
music  to  hear  you  reel  off  your  observations 
like  that.  One  learns  so  much  of  life  from 
your  fervid  conversation." 


In  Which   Bee  Takes  a   Hand  29 

I  grinned  at  her.  Her  sarcasm  sounded  like 
old  times. 

"  You  know  those  ducky  new  apartments 
next  to  where  the  Fitzhughs  live?  Well, 
Sallie  Loring  told  me  that  Cedric  Hamilton 
had  taken  one  for  himself,  so  I  went  to  look 
and  what  do  you  think?  There  is  a  front  one 
on  the  third  floor  just  right  for  me  and  another 
just  back  consisting  of  three  rooms,  a  bath 
and  kitchennette  which  Lyddy  wants.  So  we 
had  the  landlord  cut  a  door  between,  and  there 
we  shall  be,  both  literally  under  one  roof  and 
living  amiably  —  " 

"  But  with  separate  latch  keys !  "  I  cried  in 
overpowering  admiration  of  my  sister's  clever 
ness. 

"  How  wonderful  that  Lyddy  should  have 
wanted  that  apartment !  "  I  said. 

Bee  permitted  herself  a  slow  smile  at  my 
tribute  to  her  powers  of  persuasion. 

"  It  is  the  best  I  could  do  under  the  circum 
stances,"  said  Bee  modestly.  "  Lyddy  desires 
to  become  one  of  us.  She  has  acute  matri 
monial  aspirations.  She  has  unlimited  ready 
money  at  her  command.  She  can  be  led  to  do 
almost  anything  if  one  goes  about  it  properly, 
but  in  order  to  do  it  properly  —  " 

"  To  do  her  properly,"  I  suggested. 


30      The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Quite  so,"  agreed  Bee.  "  One  must  know 
her  peculiarities.  /  know  them." 

"  Unhappily  you  do,"  I  murmured. 

"  And  I  propose  to  do  the  best  I  can.  Al 
though  she  makes  conditions  —  " 

"  Conditions  ?     What  sort  ?  " 

Bee  waved  her  hand. 

"  Conditions  which  you  will  soon  learn  for 
yourself.  I  propose  to  circumvent  her  in 
every  possible  manner,  because  I  consider 
James'  will  outrageous  and  because  it  annoys 
me  to  discover  myself  in  a  cul  de  sac,  whence 
nobody  expects  me  to  emerge.  Therefore  I 
choose  to  interpret  her  commands  one  way  - 
she  declared  that  she  and  I  must  live  together 
under  one  roof  or  —  she  practically  threatens 
never  to  allow  the  property  to  be  sold,  thus 
leaving  me  with  an  income  of  less  than  I  ever 
had  before  in  my  life." 

I  looked  at  my  sister  in  pity.  Truly  for  a 
young  woman  who  was  not  condemned  in 
some  past  existence  to  expiate  a  life  spent  in 
misdeeds,  she  had  about  dreed  her  weird  in 
this.  Almost  every  sort  of  domestic,  mental 
calamity  which  could  be  imagined  had  been 
hers.  She  seemed  no  sooner  to  rise  from  one 
dizzying  blow  than  she  was  felled  to  earth  by 
another.  Her  friends  never  knew  what  sort 
of  burdens  she  bore,  for  her  indomitable  pride 


In  Which  Bee  Takes  a  Hand     31 

bade  her  bear  them  in  secret,  but  I  always 
knew  and  sometimes  the  Jimmies  did. 

Through  it  all,  the  thing  which  made  us 
adore  her  was  her  uncrushable,  implacable  will 
to  stand  upright  under  everything.  She  never 
seemed  to  scramble  to  her  feetx  bruised  and 
covered  with  dust.  She  rose  gracefully  and 
we  always  found  her  immaculate  and  scornful 
of  our  pity. 

In  fact  she  never  pitied  herself.  Her  sense 
of  justice  was  so  keen,  she  nearly  always  saw 
why  these  things  came  and  she  resolutely  set 
herself  to  overcome  them.  She  had  worked 
out  a  philosophy  of  cause  and  effect  which  was 
rigidly  self  searching  and  which  constantly 
dared  its  adherents  to  look  themselves  straight 
in  the  eye.  You  can't  flinch  much  if  you  do 
that. 

Bee  was  always  hopeful,  superbly  patient  in 
regard  to  ultimate  success,  though  quite  hu 
manly  impatient  of  daily  obstacles  and  imped 
iments.  She  seldom  asked  help  of  anybody 
and  on  the  rare  occasions  when  she  did,  it  was 
always  exactly  in  the  line  of  one's  work  and 
therefore  not  only  easy  to  give  but  reasonable 
to  be  asked  to  give  it. 

Thus  when  my  sister  found  herself  with 
ample  means  so  tied  up  that  to  get  even  her 
share  she  must  placate,  pacify  and  cajole  an 


32       The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

unpleasant  elderly  person,  and  with  the  added 
abomination  of  being  obliged  to  live  without 
daily  fights  with  the  most  impossible  of  old 
maids  I  had  ever  encountered,  I  should  not 
have  been  surprised  to  see  Bee's  spirits  flag. 

Not  a  bit  of  it! 

She  was  capable  of  attending  not  only  to 
her  own  affairs  with  magnificent  courage,  but 
of  lending  a  hand  in  the  administration  of 
ours.  And  the  way  she  concentrated  on  us, 
on  Lyddy,  on  Bob  Mygatt  and  his  mix-up,  to 
say  nothing  of  Laflin  Van  Tassel  and  our  af 
fair  with  the  Munsons  is  worthy  of  being  told 
by  one  more  skilled  than  I. 

"  And  how  about  yourself?  "  she  said,  after 
we  had  finally  left  off  discussing  hers,  chiefly 
because  in  our  fluency,  we  had  left  nothing 
unsaid. 

"  Well,  we  —  we  have  rented  a  studio 
apartment  in  the  Buckingham  studios  — ' 

"  Not  the  Munsons'  ?  "  said  Bee  in  a  muf 
fled  voice,  seizing  my  arm  with  a  grip  as  if 
I  had  said  that  I  had  rented  a  ward  in  a  de 
tention  hospital. 

"Yes,  why?" 

Bee  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  looked  at 
me.  It  was  the  hopeless  look  of  the  finally 
discouraged. 

"  Do  you  know  that  there  are  folding  doors 


In  Which   Bee  Takes  a   Hand  33 

between  Eleanor's  studio  and  the  one  you  have 
taken  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes." 

"  You  know  that?  But  perhaps  you  haven't 
signed  the  lease?  " 

Her  tone  was  distinctly  hopeful. 

"  Yes,  we  have." 

"  Well,  my  advice  to  you  —  if  you  care  for 
it  —  which  perhaps  you  don't?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do.     What  do  you  advise  ?  " 

"  I  advise  you  to  nail  up  that  door.  Brick 
it  up !  And  see  as  little  of  the  Munsons  as  pos 
sible!" 

"  But  Bee !  What  are  you  talking  about  ? 
The  Munsons  are  the  most  charming  people 
we  know  except  the  Jimmies !  " 

"  That's  just  why !  I  want  you  to  stay 
friendly.  With  an  open  door  between  you, 
you  might  see  each  other  every  day." 

"  I  am  going  to  send  them  their  lunches 
and  —  " 

"  Good  Heavens,  Faith !  Sometimes  I  think 
you  are  only  half  witted !  "  said  Bee  slowly. 

Now  if  her  tones  had  been  heated  I  should 
have  resented  her  words.  But  she  seemed  to 
speak  more  in  grief  than  in  anger. 

"  And  when  they  want  to  stay  in  town  over 
night  I  am  going  to  let  them  sleep  in  our 
studio  or  roll  our  big  couches  into  Eleanor's/' 


34      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  continued  valiantly,  thinking-  it  well  for  her 
to  know  the  worst. 

'"  There  remains  but  one  thing  more  to  com 
plete  your  utter  ruin  and  that  is  for  you  to 
have  money  transactions  with  each  other,"  said 
Bee.  "  That  would  certainly  complete  the 
catastrophe.  And  if  you  rent  from  him  you'd 
have  to!  " 

At  that  I  remained  ominously  silent  and  Bee 
saw  that  she  must  explain  without  further 
questioning. 

"  You  know  the  Munsons'  reputation  for, 
well  —  to  put  it  mildly,  eccentricity.  /  don't 
call  it  that.  I  consider  them  stark  mad.  I 
suppose  Aubrey  would  call  it  the  insanity  of 
genius  and  that  you  both  actually  derive 
amusement  from  the  history  of  their  career. 
But  to  me  they  are  dangerous  because  they  are 
unknown  quantities.  They  are  social  dyna 
mite.  Liable  to  blow  themselves  and  all  asso 
ciated  with  them  into  infinitesimal  bits  with 
out  warning  and  without  excuse.  They  are 
governed  by  no  law.  They  are  unaware  of 
conventions.  Munson  confides  their  most  pri 
vate  affairs  to  chance  acquaintances,  and  any 
thing  told  in  confidence  to  him  is  current  prop 
erty  inside  of  an  hour.  Munson  simply  leaks 
information  into  every  open  ear  he  passes. 

"  Now,  you  are  about  as  safe  with  them  as 


In  Which  Bee  Takes  a  Hand  35 

a  blazing  match  over  a  gasoline  tank.  You 
will  go  to  mothering  them,  for  they  are  either 
forlorn  objects,  worthy  of  anybody's  pity,  or 
else  arrogantly  soaring  over  the  heads  of  even 
the  richest  and  most  successful.  Just  now, 
being  down,  they  will  appeal  to  you.  You  will 
work  to  get  them  orders,  you  will  slave  to 
make  them  comfortable.  You  will  torment 
your  friends  to  death  trying  to  serve  the  Mun- 
sons,  and  all  of  a  sudden,  when  you  least  ex 
pect  it,  somebody  he  has  only  known  half  an 
hour  will  tell  Munson  that  you,  in  your  airy, 
funny  way,  have  said  something  about  him 
or  his  work,  and  without  even  coming  to  you 
decently  to  discover  whether  you  did  or  not, 
Munson  will  turn  on  you,  talk  about  you,  tell 
everything  he  knows  about  you  and  insult  you 
in  a  way  you  never  will  forgive.  Then  inside 
of  two  weeks  he  will  come  in^  with  a  smile, 
ask  for  a  whiskey  and  soda  and  begin  just 
where  he  left  off.  In  other  words  Munson 
will  have  forgiven  himself  for  having  insulted 
you!" 

I  listened  to  Bee  with  freezing  marrow. 
Although  I  had  never  had  the  pleasure  of  a 
quarrel  with  Munson,  I  knew  by  the  accuracy 
of  Bee's  observations  on  other  phases  of  life, 
that  she  was  perfect  right  on  this  matter. 

"  But  he  is  so  charming,"  I  said.    However 


36     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  said  it  as  one  speaks  of  a  being  who  has 
passed  out  of  one's  life. 

"  Personally  I  don't  find  him  so.  I  like 
Eleanor.  There  is  more  foundation  to  her. 
But  Munson  has  the  same  damp,  lifeless  hand 
shake  that  James  had,"  said  James'  widow. 

"Good  Heavens!"  I  cried.  "So  he  has! 
I  never  thought  of  it  before." 

"  Rest  assured,"  said  my  sister,  "  that  char 
acteristics  show  in  trifles  like  that.  I  don't  say 
just  because  they  shake  hands  alike,  that 
James  and  Munson  have  similar  characteris 
tics.  I  only  say  that  something  within  tells 
me  to  shun  Munson  —  that  is,  to  shun  famil 
iarity  with  him." 

"  I  believe  so  much  in  the  way  a  man  shakes 
hands,"  I  faltered.  Bee's  calling  my  atten 
tion  to  this  hitherto  unnoticed  characteristic 
had  shaken  my  faith  in  Munson  more  than  all 
she  had  said  of  her  own  opinion  of  him. 

"  So  do  I.  Now,  the  lifelessness  of  James' 
grasp  meant  chiefly  an  unwillingness  to  give 
out  anything  he  could  keep  for  himself, 
whether  sympathy,  human  interest  or  money. 
With  Munson  —  " 

"  With  Munson,"  I  interrupted,  "  it  means 
only  a  different  branch  of  complete  self-ness, 
for  both  Munson  and  Eleanor  are  an  incarna 
tion  of  the  word  Ego.  They  give  —  yes,  you 


In  Which  Bee  Takes  a  Hand  37 

could  have  their  money,  or  the  clothes  off  their 
back,  because  they  don't  value  such  things!" 
I  cried,  growing  more  and  more  excited  in 
my  sudden  understanding  of  them,  "  but  as  for 
any  interest  in  me  or  you  or  Aubrey,  or  our 
work  —  why,  Bee !  I  told  Munson  eleven 
times  about  Aubrey's  new  play,  and  as  we 
parted,  he  said :  '  By  the  way,  is  Aubrey  doing 
any  writing  these  days  ? '  He  simply  hadn't 
heard  the  sound  of  my  voice  when  it  was  not 
discussing  his  affairs ! ' 

"  Exactly,"  said  Bee,  evenly.  "  Don't  get 
so  excited,  Faith.  You  have  known  all  this 
before." 

"  No,  I  haven't,"  I  said  despondently.  "  I 
didn't  realize  it  until  you  called  my  attention 
to  it." 

"  Well,  don't  go  up  in  the  air  about  it.  You 
are  probably  planning  to  cut  the  Munsons  off 
your  list.  Why  can't  you  moderate  your  wor 
ship  of  your  friends?  Why  must  all  your 
geese  be  swans?  " 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  I  will  take  your 
advice  and  not  let  Aubrey  borrow  money  from 
him,"  I  said. 

"  I  should  think  not.  And  for  another 
thing,  don't  get  behind  in  the  rent  even  for 
a  day.  For  he  will  tell  it  on  you  far  and  near, 
and  he  will  hide  behind  the  fact  that  you  owe 


38      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

him  money  to  stave  off  every  creditor  he  pos 
sesses." 

Again  I  shivered. 

"  As  an  example  of  how  his  ignorance  of 
business  injures  people,  a  man  of  means  agreed 
to  pay  him  a  certain  rent  for  his  old  studio 
quarterly.  Yet  Munson  told  me  six  weeks  ago 
that  his  tenant  had  gone  to  Mexico  owing  him 
six  hundred  dollars,  and  he  gave  me  the  im 
pression  that  the  man  had  absconded.  Mun 
son  said  he  might  have  to  bring  an  action  to 
get  his  rent.  Since  then  every  time  I  have 
heard  this  man's  name  mentioned  I  have  ex 
pected  to  hear  of  his  arrest.  Yesterday  I 
heard  that  he  will  be  back  in  three  weeks  and 
the  rent  isn't  even  due  until  January.  I  tell 
you,  Faith  Jardine,  Edward  Munson  is  the 
most  dangerous  man  a  woman  like  you  could 
interest  herself  in." 

"  What  kind  of  a  woman  am  I,  Bee?  " 

Bee  leaned  back  and  crossed  her  feet.  I 
could  see  that  she  intended  to  enjoy  herself. 

"  What  kind  of  a  woman  are  you  ?  "  she 
repeated,  not  to  gain  time,  but  as  a  sort  of 
appetizing  hors  d'ceuvre  to  the  mental  meal  of 
which  she  was  about  to  make  of  me. 

Just  then  the  telephone  rang  and  I  flew  to 
answer  it. 

"It's  the  Jimmies!"  I  announced  beam 
ingly. 


CHAPTER    III 
FROM  A  SISTER'S  POINT  OF  VIEW 

YOU  are  just  in  time,"  I  said  as  we 
greeted  them,  "  to  assist  at  a  clinic!  " 
"  A  what?  "  said  Mrs.  Jimmie. 

"A  clinic!"  I  repeated.  "At  my  earnest 
request  Bee  was  about  to  give  me  her  unvar 
nished  opinion  of  me." 

'  You  have  been  under  the  knife  so  often," 
said  Jimmie,  "  I  should  think  you  wouldn't 
even  need  chloroform." 

"  Indeed  she  has  not,"  said  Bee,  warmly. 
"  Faith  very  seldom  hears  the  truth  about  her 
self.  Aubrey  flatters  her  to  death,  and  I  never 
express  the  whole  'of  my  opinion  unless  asked 
for  it." 

"  But  Bee,  dear,  don't  you  admire  Faith  the 
way  we  all  do?  "  asked  Mrs.  Jimmie  uneasily. 

"  I  admire  her  good  points  extravagantly, 
dear  Mrs.  Jimmie,"  said  Bee.  "  But  in  spite 
of  them,  I  think  —  I  really  think  that  Faith 
is  the  most  uncomfortable  person  to  live  with 
I  ever  knew  in  my  life." 
39 


40      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  drew  in  my  feet  a  trifle,  involuntarily,  and 
Jimmie  fumbled  in  his  pockets  hurriedly. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Bee,"  he  begged.  "  Just 
wait  till  I  find  a  match." 

He  hastily  lighted  a  large,  black  cigar, 
leaned  back,  blew  a  long,  thin  line  of  smoke 
in  the  air,  grinned  and  said: 

"Now,  Bee!" 

I  expected  this  of  him.  He  was  simply 
delighted  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  me  dis 
sected. 

"  First  of  all,"  began  Bee,  "  you  are  never 
consecutively  truthful.  You  are  a  creature  of 
moods.  You  analyze  yourself  for  the  amuse 
ment  of  others,  not  intending  to  deceive,  but 
you  do  deceive." 

Jimmie  laughed  until  he  choked  on  cigar 
smoke. 

"  But,"  continued  Bee,  "  your  fibs  are  al 
ways  at  your  own  expense.  You  never  really 
do  the  terrible  things  you  declare  yourself 
capable  of  doing,  so  that  really  you  are  much 
finer  than  you  believe  yourself  to  be." 

Jimmie  looked  so  astonished  —  nay,  so  flat 
and  so  distinctly  disappointed  at  this  that  I  had 
to  laugh.  I  was  immensely  flattered,  but  to 
tell  the  truth,  I  was  as  much  surprised  as  he 
was.  Not  once  in  a  million  years  does  Bee 
say  anything  decent  to  me,  for  while  we  adore 


From  a  Sister's  Point  of  View  41 

each  other,  we  simply  loathe  each  other's  ideals 
in  life.  I  consider  mine  much  higher  than 
Bee's,  but  she  is  positive  that  nobody  but  a 
fool  would  cherish  mine  and  that  hers  reflect 
credit  on  their  owner  both  for  wisdom  and 
policy. 

"  Then,"  pursued  my  sister,  with  evident 
pleasure  in  the  sensation  she  was  creating, 
"  you  are  not  to  be  depended  upon.  You  flat 
ter  yourself  that  you  are,  but  that  is  only  an 
other  of  your  mistaken  estimates  of  yourself. 
Your  best  friends  never  know  when  you  will 
go  all  to  pieces  over  some  trifle.  You  have  no 
self  control.  You  burst  into  tears  in  public 
and  disgrace  Aubrey  —  " 

"  Aubrey  doesn't  mind !  "  I  cried. 

"  And  me,"  pursued  Bee  placidly,  "  in  ways 
a  grown  up  married  woman  should  scorn  to 
do.  One  night  at  a  roof  garden,  the  conver 
sation  turned  on  McKinley's  death  and  you 
cried.  At  least  two  years  after  he  had 
died." 

"  Well,  —  " 

"  There  is  no  excuse  for  such  things.  They 
only  embarrass  the  self-possessed.  Of  course 
the  public  is  not  supposed  to  know  that  you 
enjoy  crying  —  that  you  can  cry  one  minute 
and  burst  out  laughing  while  the  tears  are 
still  pouring  down  your  face." 


42      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  I  don't  enjoy  it!  "  I  muttered. 

"  Yes,  you  do !  "  cried  Jimmie.  "  By  Jove ! 
I  believe  you  do!  " 

"  She  does  not !  "  said  Mrs.  Jimmie,  throw 
ing  the  bomb  of  a  flat  contradiction  into  our 
devoted  midst.  "  Faith  is  only  very  emotional, 
far  more  quick  to  see  the  pity  of  a  thing  than 
we.  And  as  for  trying  to  control  herself,  I 
have  seen  her  lip  bleed  from  biting  it !  " 

At  this  sweet  and  unexpected  defence  of  my 
great  weakness,  I  gave  what  Jimmie  called 
"  an  imitation  of  a  lady  weeping  "  with  great 
promptness. 

"  You  see!  "  said  Bee,  calmly. 

"  Go  on  and  geyser,  Faith,  if  it  does  you  any 
good,"  said  Jimmie  with  a  grin. 

"  It's  —  it's  because  what  d-dear  Mrs.  Jim 
mie  said  makes  me  —  f-feel  so  sorry  for  m-my- 
self !  "  I  stammered. 

"  Spotlight !  "  said  Jimmie. 

"  Exactly!  "  said  Bee.  "  You  are  so  over 
come  by  the  dramatic  qualities  of  your  onion- 
like  capacity  to  weep  at  notice  that  you  at  once 
feel  sorry  enough  for  yourself  to  cry.  As  I 
have  observed  before,  it  affords  exquisite  dis 
comfort  to  your  friends." 

"  Go  on !  "  I  said,  dabbing  my  eyes  dry. 
"  It  is  fascinating  to  hear  you  tell  it." 


From  a  Sister's  Point  of  View  43 

"  Again.  You  pride  yourself  on  your  in 
terest  in  and  your  generosity  to  your  friends. 
But  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  while  you 
do  fairly  wear  yourself  out  for  them,  you  ex 
pect  the  same  fervour  from  them  in  your  own 
times  of  need,  and  when  you  don't  get  it,  you 
are  furious.  You  are  either  working  like  a 
slave  for  your  friends  or  crying  out  at  their 
rank  ingratitude." 

"Ha!    ha!"   laughed  Jimmie,   suddenly. 

I  glared  at  him,  and  even  his  wife  looked  a 
reproof  which  is  the  most  she  ever  does.  If 
Jimmie  were  my  husband,  I'd  throw  him  into 
the  river  a  dozen  times  a  day.  But  Mrs.  Jim 
mie  only  looks  at  him  in  dear  reproach. 

"  And  just  because  your  purse  hangs  open 
all  the  time,  you  think  others'  should  be  so  too. 
But  other  people  keep  their  money." 

This  remark  admitted  of  so  many  changes 
being  rung  on  it,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
James,  Lyddy,  the  Jimmies,  and  ourselves,  that 
we  all  indulged  in  a  silent  but  sympathetic 
smile  before  Bee  proceeded. 

"  Most  people  hate  the  feeling  of  grati 
tude— " 

"  Not  one  in  a  million  knows  what  it  feels 
like,"  I  snapped  out. 

"  They  don't  want  to   feel  it.     Personally 


44      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I'd  rather  never  have  a  favour  done  for  me 
than  suffer  the  strain  of  gratitude,  so  that 
really  you  —  " 

"  You  are  making  out  that  I  am  a  nui 
sance  !  "  I  cried. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Bee  smoothly.  "  I  am 
simply  trying  to  show  you  that  you  do  not 
understand  yourself  as  we  understand  you." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,"  I  said,  hotly. 
"  But  —  " 

"  But  we  don't  all  agree  with  dear  Bee, 
clever  as  she  undoubtedly  is,"  said  Mrs.  Jim- 
mie  quietly.  "  She  doesn't  mean  what  she 
says.  She  adores  Faith  just  as  we  all  do,  and 
we  wouldn't  have  her  dear  funny  ways 
changed  any  more  than  —  than  Aubrey  would, 
even  if  we  could.  We  love  her  just  as  she  is. 
Don't  we,  Jimmie?" 

Jimmie  crossed  over  and  took  his  wife's 
hand. 

"  I'd  hate  to  say  under  oath  that  I  approve 
of  everything  that  Faith  does  and  is,  because 
I  might  go  to  jail  if  it  could  be  proved  on 
me.  But  I'll  say  it  of  you  if  you  want  me 
to!" 

"But  Jimmie!"  said  his  wife  with  pink 
cheeks,  half  pushing  him  away.  "  I  don't 
want  you  to  say  it  of  me  — 

"  All   right !  "   said  Jimmie  reproachfully. 


From  a  Sister's  Point  of  View  45 

"  At  least  not  in  public!  "  she  hastily  added. 

Jimmie's  eye  twitches.  He  doesn't  exactly 
wink. 

"  I  feel  that  Bee  ought  to  write  novels,  she 
has  such  an  admirable  way  of  sketching  our 
characters,"  I  said. 

"  Is  that  smile  of  yours  intended  to  be  bit 
ter  ?  "  asked  Jimmie  of  me,  with  a  great  show 
of  anxiety.  "  Because  if  it  is,  you  should  never 
go  on  the  stage.  You  are  grinning  like  a 
chessy  cat  at  Bee's  description  of  you." 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  going  on  the  stage," 
I  remarked. 

"  Perhaps  not  now  you  haven't,"  said  Jim 
mie.  "  It  is  now  only  a  quarter  to  six.  At 
six  you  might  decide  to  star  as  Othello." 

"  If  I  ever  do,"  I  said,  "  I  should  ittsist 
upon  your  playing  Desdemona,  Jimmie.  It 
would  be  unmitigated  joy  for  me  to  put  a 
pillow  over  your  mouth  and  then  sit  on  it." 

"  Fie,  fie !  My  dear !  What  a  temper  you 
have !  "  said  Jimmie  gently. 

At  this  critical  juncture  the  Angel  appeared, 
and  after  we  had  all  hailed  his  advent  after 
our  various  kinds,  he  rang  for  ice  and  a  sy 
phon,  at  which  Jimmie  drew  a  deep  anticipa 
tory  sigh  of  bliss. 

"  Bee,  dear,  where  are  you  staying?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Jimmie. 


46      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Then  Bee  told  the  Jimmies  what  she  had 
just  told  me,  and  I  leaned  back  while  Jimmie 
sat  up. 

I  enjoy  Jimmie  when  he  is  angry.  He  is 
so  sincere.  But  he  finally  talked  himself  into 
a  state  of  exhaustion,  whereupon  Bee  said 
abruptly : 

"  Hope  Loring's  wedding  cards  are  out. 
Did  you  know  it,  Faith?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said.     "  Ours  came  yesterday." 

"  So  did  ours,"  said  Jimmie.  "  Doesn't  it 
seem  good  to  see  John  Loring  on  his  feet 
again!  He  is  one  of  the  finest  men  I  ever 
knew  in  all  my  life." 

"  Do  you  know  the  family  well  ?  "  asked 
Bee. 

"Fairly  so!" 

"  Do  you?  "  asked  Bee,  turning  to  Aubrey. 

"So  — so!" 

"  All  of  them  ?    The  cousins  ?  " 

The  Angel  nodded. 

We  all  looked  expectantly  at  Bee,  but  she 
said  no  more.  But  I  knew  there  was  some 
thing  behind  her  innocent  question.  I  simply 
waited. 

It  was  Aubrey  who  broke  the  silence. 

"  I  met  one  of  them,  Laflin  Van  Tassel,  you 
know.  And  he  told  me  that  the  famous  law 
suit  has  finally  been  settled  and  his  mother 


From  a  Sister's  Point  of  View  47 

won.  She  sued  the  administrators  of  her 
grandfather's  estate  for  an  accounting,  and 
will  recover  a  million  or  more,  so  that  Laflin  at 
once  becomes  an  interesting  figure  in  society." 

"  How  nice !  "  I  said.  "  But  isn't  it  true 
that  *  them  as  has,  gits.'  For  Laflin  has  al 
ready  made  a  name  for  himself  as  an  archi 
tect  and  would  have  got  on  in  his  profession 
without  money.  Do  you  know  him,  Jim- 
mie?" 

Jimmie  nodded. 

"  Good  looking  chap." 

"  He's  the  handsomest  thing  I  ever  saw," 
I  said  frankly.  "  And  to  think  of  his  getting 
all  that  money.  I  never  even  saw  a  good 
looking  millionaire  before.  Most  rich  men's 
looks  are  such  that  a  compensating  Providence 
simply  had  to  give  them  money  to  even  things 
up!" 

Jimmie  sat  up,  suddenly  intelligent 

:<  You  want  to  know,  whether  it's  in  cash 
or  not?  And  what  bank  it's  in,  Bee?"  he 
asked. 

Bee  looked  annoyed. 

"  I  don't  even  know  him,"  she  said  dis 
tantly.  "  I  only  know  the  Lorings." 

"  His  uncle,  John  Loring,  is  devoted  to 
him,"  said  Mrs.  Jimmie,  "  which  means  a 
great  deal  to  me." 


48      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Bee  looked  down.  She  never  lets  us  see 
into  her  eyes  when  she  thinks  things. 

"  None  of  you  can  guess  who  else  has  finally 
made  a  ten  strike  —  not  that  any  of  you  will 
particularly  care,"  said  Aubrey. 

"Who?" 

"  Bob  Mygatt.  His  opera  —  his  magnus 
opus  has  finally  found  a  manager." 

"  It's  only  a  feather-fingered  musical  com 
edy,"  said  Jimmie.  "  Opera  indeed !  Does 
he  call  it  an  opera?  " 

"  He  generally  alludes  to  it  as  his  '  chuff 
duff,'  "  I  said.  "  He  is  so  funny." 

"  He  is  a  dear,"  said  Bee,  beaming.  "  I 
am  so  glad  to  hear  of  his  good  luck." 

"  He  is  charming,"  said  Mrs.  Jimmie. 

"  Just  listen,"  said  Jimmie  to  Aubrey. 
"  Women  always  rave  about  a  fellow  like 
that.  What  do  you  think  of  him,  old  man?  " 

"  Do  you  want  my  private  opinion  of  Bob 
Mygatt?"  asked  Aubrey,  in  his  quiet  voice. 

"  I  do." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Angel,  quietly.  "  I  think 
he  is  more  kinds  of  a  damnfool  than  any  other 
person,  male  or  female,  that  I  ever  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  knowing." 

Aubrey  meets  with  the  usual  fate  of  those 
who  seldom  use  violent  language.  When  he 
does  he  prostrates  his  audience. 


From  a  Sister's  Point  of  View  49 

"  Lyddy  has  met  him,"  said  Bee  softly. 

"Already?" 

"  And  she  says  he  has  the  most  delightful 
manners  of  any  man  she  ever  knew.  He 
kissed  her  hand  at  parting." 

Jimmie  writhes  so  when  he  laughs,  I  love 
to  watch  him. 

"  I  think,"  said  Bee,  "  that  one  reason 
Lyddy  was  so  willing  to  take  that  separate 
apartment  — ' 

"  Bee,  don't,"  shrieked  Jimmie.  "  I  can't 
bear  it!" 

Even  Aubrey  grinned  at  Jimmie's  joy. 

"  Was  because  I  should  not  always  be  there 
to  see  him  take  leave  of  her." 

"He's  engaged!" 

Aubrey's  bombshell  had  the  desired  effect. 

"  Engaged !  "  cried  Bee.  She  was  so  plainly 
disconcerted  that  I  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 
She  instantly  recovered  herself  and  added, 
"  How  annoying !  The  Bob  Mygatts  of  this 
world  should  never  be  engaged.  They  belong 
to  all  of  us." 

"  Anybody  is  welcome  to  my  share  of  'em," 
said  Jimmie,  cheerfully. 

"  Whom  is  he  engaged  to?  "  I  demanded. 

"  A  beautiful  girl  who  is  to  sing  the  prin 
cipal  role  in  his  piece,"  said  Aubrey.  "  I've 
never  seen  her,  but  I've  heard  her  voice 


50      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

and  it  is  a  very  fine  one  —  a  clear,  high  so 
prano." 

"  You  must  get  to  know  her,  Aubrey,"  said 
Bee.  "You  could,  couldn't  you?" 

"  What  for?  "  asked  the  Angel. 

"Oh,  just  because!  " 

"  Ask  Mygatt  to  bring  her  to  see  you,  Bee," 
said  Jimmie.  "  That's  the  proper  caper,  isn't 
it?" 

'  True,"  said  Bee,  rising  and  shaking  out 
her  mourning.  It  quite  brought  us  to  our 
senses  to  see  Bee  in  black.  Even  Jimmie 
hastily  gulped  down  the  last  of  his  drink  and 
choked  on  a  piece  of  ice  as  he  started  to  his 
feet. 

"  When  may  we  come  to  see  you,  Bee, 
dear?"  I  cried  almost  dancing  in  my  excite 
ment.  "  Can't  we  come  to-night?  " 

"  If  you  don't  mind  sitting  on  boxes,  come 
by  all  means." 

"Oh,  what  fun  to  have  you  living  here!  " 
I  cried,  flinging  my  arms  around  her  neck, 
regardless  of  her  "  blacks." 

"  We  are  coming  too,  Bee,"  declared  Jim 
mie. 

"  Why,  of  course  you  are,"  she  answered. 
"  Don't  we  all  belong  to  the  Happy  Family?  " 

"Have  you  told  her?"  demanded  Jimmie 
with  dropped  jaw. 


From  a  Sister's  Point  of  View  51 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  his  wife,  with  a 
surprised  look  at  Bee.  "  Didn't  I  promise 
not  to?" 

"  Then,"  announced  Jimmie,  beaming  with 
importance,  "  I  shall  have  something  nice  to 
tell  you  all  —  to-night !  " 

And  so  saying,  and  in  spite  of  our  agonized 
questions,  Jimmie  went  out  hurriedly,  grin 
ning  with  cheerful  malice  at  our  baffled  curi 
osity. 


CHAPTER    IV 

BEE  AND   HER    CELLARETTE 

AS  usual  Bee  had  got  exactly  what  she 
wanted.     This  time  it  was  an  apart 
ment,  beautifully  suited  to  her  needs, 
close  to  her  best  friend,  Sallie  Fitzhugh,  and 
with  more  little  conveniences  than  any  apart 
ment  I  had  ever  seen. 

"  And  I  do  believe  it  will  be  as  quiet  as  one 
can  be  in  New  York,"  said  Aubrey  wistfully. 

"  Possibly  it  will,"  said  Bee,  "  just  because 
I  don't  care  whether  it  is  or  not.  The  boy 
next  me  at  the  hotel  where  I  was,  played  a 
drum." 

She  smiled  at  our  horrified  faces.  But  be 
fore  we  could  say  more,  the  door  was  pushed 
open  and  Bee's  sister-in-law,  Lyddy,  made  her 
appearance. 

Poor  Lydia  Lathrop!  We  always  tried  to 
be  pleasant  at  first,  but  we  are  easy  going  folk 
and  will  not  strive  long  to  be  good  in  any 
direction.  We  follow  the  line  of  least  resist 
ance  and  only  strive  persistently  to  amuse 
ourselves. 

S* 


Bee  and  Her  Cellarette         53 

Jimmie  sums  up  the  situation  neatly  when 
he  says : 

"  I  suppose  it  really  isn't  Lyddy's  fault  that 
her  knuckles  are  red  and  shiny." 

"  What  /  object  to,"  said  Aubrey,  "  is  the 
general  dampness  of  her  personality.  If  you 
shake  hands  with  her,  her  hands  are  damp. 
If  you  pick  up  her  handkerchief  it  is  always 
damp.  If  you  touch  her  gloves  they  are  al 
ways  damp." 

But  what  worried  me  was  the  dampness  of 
her  personality.  She  always  regarded  our 
chatter  with  each  other  as  covert  insults  di 
rected  specifically  at  herself,  and  to  be  pierced 
with  Lyddy  Lathrop's  eye  just  as  you  were 
saying  something  foolish,  but  which  all  the 
others  would  love,  was  to  feel  as  if  an  icicle 
had  dropped  down  your  back. 

"  Well,  Lyddy,"  I  said  nervously.  I  al 
ways  had  to  be  the  first  to  speak,  because  the 
others  wouldn't. 

"  Well,  Faith !  "  she  retorted,  as  Jimmie 
would  say,  "  with  rare  wit." 

Dear  Mrs.  Jimmie  came  to  the  rescue  as 
usual. 

"  I  have  not  seen  you  since  your  poor 
brother's  death,  to  say  how  sorry  I  feel  for  you 
in  your  grief,"  she  said  in  her  soft  voice. 

"  You  wrote  all  that  was  necessary,"  said 


54      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Lyddy.  Then  seeing  by  our  sudden  silence 
how  enraged  we  were  that  the  only  decent  one 
among  us  had  been  so  hatefully  rebuffed,  she 
added : 

"  But  I've  no  doubt  you  mean  well." 

"  Yes,  we  mean  well,"  said  Jimmie.  "  We 
are  just  poor,  simple  folk  who  blunder  in  our 
speech,  that's  all." 

"  But  while  we  are  not  clever  we  can  truth 
fully  call  ourselves  good  natured  and  tidy,  can 
we  not?"  I  added,  looking  around  for  en 
couragement. 

I  was  recalled  to  the  sale  of  the  Kokomo 
land  by  Bee's  peaceful  rejoinder: 

"  Lyddy  stayed  at  home  and  worked  all  the 
time  I  was  with  you,  so  her  apartment  is 
nearly  settled.  Don't  you  want  to  show  it  to 
them,  Lyddy?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  want  to  show  them, 
but  if  they  choose  to  go  in  and  look  at  it,  I 
shall  not  prevent  them." 

"  Such  cordiality  shall  not  go  unrewarded," 
said  Jimmie.  "  We  accept  your  kind  invita 
tion,  Miss  Lathrop,  with  pleasure." 

"Jimmie!"  murmured  his  wife  reproach 
fully. 

"  I  had  to,  love,  or  I  should  have  hit  her 
under  the  ear  with  a  hambone." 


Bee  and  Her  Cellarette         55 

As  we  were  all  filing  through  the  door, 
Bee's  telephone  rang  and  she  turned  around 
with  a  queer  look  after  answering  it. 

"Whom  do  you  think  it  is?"  she  said, 
biting  her  lip. 

"  Who?  "  we  demanded  in  a  breath. 

"  Bob  Mygatt.  He  says  he  went  around 
to  see  you,  Faith,  and  they  told  him  where 
you  were." 

"  That's  strange,"  I  said.  "  The  hotel  peo 
ple  didn't  know  where  we  were." 

"  He  must  have  come  to  see  Lyddy !  "  said 
Jimmie,  as  the  broadest  joke  he  could  think 
of  at  the  time.  But  to  our  unbounded  joy, 
Lyddy  fled  for  a  mirror,  where  she  nervously 
put  herself  to  rights. 

We  nearly  suffocated  trying  not  to  let  her 
hear  us. 

Then,  with  a  bang,  the  door  flew  open,  and 
Bob  was  in  our  midst. 

Bob  was  almost  good  looking  and,  to  most 
of  us,  wholly  amusing  in  his  impudence;  but 
the  Angel  and  Jimmie  disliked  him  with  a 
wholesome  fervour  which  almost  partook  of 
athletics  in  the  violence  of  its  exertion. 

When  Lyddy  came  in,  Bob  called  her  his 
"  Dear  Lady,"  and  kissed  her  hand,  Jimmie 
watching  him  in  fascinated  silence.  Then  he 


56      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

sat  down  on  the  floor  at  her  side,  clasped  his 
knees  and  looked  up  into  her  face  with  the 
adoring  eyes  of  a  faithful  dog. 

These  two  were  so  absorbed  in  each  other 
that  they  did  not  join  our  clamour  to  know 
what  Jimmie's  secret  was,  but  when  we  finally 
got  it  out  of  him  and  found  that  he  had  bought 
a  glorious  big  touring  car,  Bobbie's  ear  was 
suddenly  cocked  in  our  direction,  and  soon 
afterward  he  deserted  Lyddy  and  propelled 
himself,  still  in  that  sitting  posture,  to  my 
side. 

"  Ah,  ha !  I  though  you  would  remember 
our  existence  when  you  heard  the  word  auto 
mobile,"  I  said  cruelly.  But  in  reality  it  was 
because  I  do  not  like  to  see  an  agreeable  man 
waste  himself  too  long  on  another  woman. 
I  am  not  jealous.  I  am  only  particular. 

Bob  looked  at  me  reproachfully. 

"  That's  mean,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not  after 
the  crumbs  which  fall  from  a  rich  man's  table. 
I  am  a  rich  man  myself  —  or  at  least  I  am 
going  to  be,  if  the  brutes  handle  my  play  as 
they  should." 

"  That  is  what  we  are  always  thinking  — 
that  we  are  going  to  be  rich  to-morrow.  But 
to-morrow  never  comes." 

"  It  came  once,  but  you  blew  it  all  in  —  " 

"  Tell  me  about  your  —    "  I  began  hastily. 


Bee  and  Her  Cellarette         57 

"  About  my  play?" 

"  No.  About  your  engagement.  I've  just 
heard  of  it." 

"  Who  told  you  ?  "  he  said  with  a  cloudy 
face. 

"Aubrey.    Who  is  the  girl?" 

"  She  is  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Winthrop,  and 
her  name  is  Ava  Corliss." 

"A  cousin  of  Mrs.  Gallup  Winthrop!"  I 
cried.  "  That  is  a  fine  family.  She  must 
have  loads  of  money." 

"  Yes,  but  she  doesn't  belong  to  the  rich 
side  of  the  family  —  worse  luck !  " 

"  Bob,  are  you  mercenary?" 

"  No,  but  I'm  jolly  well  tired  of  being  poor. 
You  can't  call  me  mercenary  when  I  am  en 
gaged  to  a  poor  girl." 

"  Is  she  really  poor?  " 

"  As  Job's  turkey.    Has  to  support  herself." 

"  Yes,  you  are  mercenary,  because  you  half 
regret  it.  It's  your  Irish  sentimentality  which 
made  you  fall  in  love  with  her." 

"  I  showed  good  sense  in  falling  in  love 
with  her.  She's  just  the  girl  to  keep  me 
straight  —  got  a  conscience  that  sticks  out  so 
you  bark  your  shins  against  it  every  time  you 
get  near  enough  to  her  to  shake  hands,  but 
I  was  a  fool  to  ask  her  to  marry  me,  because 
unless  my  play  is  3.  sucess,  it  will  be  thirty  or 


58      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

forty  years  before  we  can  marry.  Besides 
that,  she  rakes  up  a  man's  past,  with  a  —  " 

"  But  everybody  says  your  play  is  so  fool 
ish  it  is  bound  to  be  a  success.  Now  York  is 
the  home  of  musical  silliness,"  I  said  cheer 
fully.  But  my  interruption  did  not  stave  off 
his  confidence.  It  only  deferred  it. 

He  looked  up  at  me  and  grinned.  Then  he 
sighed. 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  sometime.  I'm  in 
a  lot  of  trouble,  but  I  can't  talk  about  it  here. 
So  long,  I  must  get  back  to  my  lady  love,"  he 
said,  as  if  I  had  begged  him  to  confide. 

And  with  that  he  resumed  his  place  by 
Lyddy  and  we  heard  him  beseech  her  not  to 
send  him  away  again. 

But  evidently  Bee  could  stand  this  no 
longer,  for  she  rose  and  said : 

"  I  didn't  ask  you  all  here  to-night  to  spend 
an  evening  in  sweet  idleness.  Jimmie,  won't 
you  and  Aubrey  hang  pictures  for  me?  " 

Lyddy  looked  up  with  acid  in  her  voice,  as 
she  said : 

"  Why  disturb  things,  Bee?  " 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  disturbing  you  and 
Bob,"  began  Bee. 

"  In  fact,  I  think  she  suggested  it  out  of 
courtesy  —  to  leave  you  and  Bob  alone  to 
gether,"  I  said.* 


Bee  and  Her  Cellarette         59 

Lyddy  smiled  at  me,  and  Bob  cut  in  fer 
vently  : 

"  Oh,  do  leave  us  alone !  Go  away  —  all  of 
you !  I  want  to  have  my  lady  all  to  myself  all 
the  rest  of  the  evening!  " 

And  he  hitched  himself  nearer  to  her,  and 
resumed  his  adoring-dog  glances. 

Jimmie  marched  out  without  a  backward 
glance. 

When  we  were  all  safely  out  of  ear  shot,  he 
turned  to  Bee  and  exploded : 

"  I  don't  know  what  your  game  is,  but  I  tell 
you  right  now,  don't  you  ever  invite  that  fool 
to  be  one  of  any  party  you  make  up  for  the 
automobile,  for  I  won't  stand  it!  Of  all 
the  —  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Jimmie,"  said  Bee  sooth 
ingly.  "Have  you  named  it  yet?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Jimmie,  his  brow  smooth 
ing  under  Bee's  tact.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you?  In 
honour  of  us  all,  I  have  named  it  *  The 
Happy  Family.' ' 

"  How  many  will  it  hold,  Jimmie,"  I  de 
manded,  visions  of  taking  all  my  friends  to 
ride  in  it  floating  through  my  brain. 

"  Seven.  I  thought  it  was  of  no  use  to  get 
a  smaller  one  when  you  and  Bee  are  so  hos 
pitable." 


60     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  giggled.  And  Mrs.  Jimmie  beamed  with 
happiness. 

Suddenly  Jimmie  paused  in  his  inspection 
of  Bee's  apartment  and  exclaimed : 

"What's  this,  Bee?" 

"Open  it  and  see!" 

I  knew  from  Bee's  modest  pride  that  she 
had  done  something  worthy  of  praise,  and  so 
she  had,  for  the  thing  was  a  cellarette  and 
such  a  cellarette  that  I  was  sure  it  had  been 
made  to  order. 

As  we  opened  it,  a  vision  of  good  things 
met  our  eye,  all  appetizingly  packed  and  icy 
cold. 

Jimmie  and  the  Angel  hung  over  it  fas 
cinated. 

"  Lobster!  "  murmured  Aubrey. 

"Who  is?"  demanded  Jimmie. 

"  You  seem  to  be  alive,"  I  said.  "  Though 
I  have  often  felt  that  you  could  be  spared !  " 

"  Beer !  "  said  the  Angel.  "  And  a  jar  of 
mayonnaise  already  made!  And  Swiss  cheese 
and  rye  sandwiches!  Bee,  how  did  you  man 
age  all  this  on  moving  day?  " 

Bee  was  satisfied  by  his  tone  of  respectful 
admiration.  We  sat  back  and  watched  the 
Angel  set  the  table. 

"  Why  don't  you  help  him,  Faith  ? "  de 
manded  Jimmie. 


Bee   and  Her  Cellarette         6 1 

I  waved  my  hand. 

"  I've  trained  him  to  do  it  and  I  don't  want 
to  spoil  him,"  I  said.  "  Why  don't  you  help 
him  yourself?  I've  never  regarded  you  as  at 
all  ornamental,  particularly  in  repose." 

"  I'd  drop  things.  Say,  Bee,  do  we  have 
to  call  Lyddy?" 

"  Certainly,  Jimmie.  Our  dear  Lyddy  will 
be  one  at  all  our  little  gatherings  in  the  fu 
ture— " 

"  After  that  —  death !  "  said  Aubrey.  But 
again  we  forgot  how  Bee  works. 

"Not  in  the  motor?"  demanded  Jimmie 
aghast. 

"  Certainly !  "  said  Bee,  firmly. 

"  I'd  never  have  bought  the  thing  if  I'd 
known  that !  "  said  Jimmie,  fiercely,  "  I  call 
it  a  confounded  shame,  Bee,  to  make  me!  " 

"  Why,  Jimmie,"  said  his  wife,  deeply 
shocked.  "  How  can  you  be  so  outspoken  ? 
You  might  hurt  dear  Bee's  feelings.  He 
didn't  mean  anything,  Bee.  Lyddy  will  be 
always  welcome  whenever  you  care  to  bring 
her.  We  know  how  tried  you  will  be  during 
this  coming  year,  and  anything  that  anyone 
of  us  can  do  to  make  this  easier  for  you,  we 
will  gladly  do." 

Bee  bent  over  and  kissed  her.  That  was 
all  there  was  to  do  most  of  the  time.  Her 


62     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

heavenly  sweetness,  as  Jimmie  said,  "  always 
knocked  our  eye  out." 

We  made  Jimmie  call  Lyddy  and  Bob  and 
we  all  gathered  around  Bee's  tiny  dining- 
room  table  to  partake  of  our  first  meal  with 
her. 

We  all  had  it  in  mind,  but  of  course  it  was 
poor  old  Jimmie  who  blurted  into  saying  it. 

"By  Jove,  Bee!"  he  cried.  "This  is  the 
first  time  we  ever  sat  down  to  your  table,  isn't 
it?  Ouch!" 

This  last  registered  two  swift  kicks  that  he 
got  sub  rosa,  so  to  speak. 

Lyddy  fixed  him  with  her  eye  and  rose 
manfully  to  the  occasion. 

"That  is  right,  Mr.  Jimmie!  Remind  me, 
right  to  my  face  of  my  poor  dead  brother's 
peculiarities  and  his  domestic  unhappiness! 
It  pleases  both  his  widow  and  his  sister  to 
have  his  unfortunate  disposition  remarked 
upon !  Pray  go  on !  " 

"Oh,  I  say!"  gasped  Jimmie,  looking 
wildly  around  for  a  sympathetic  eye.  But  he 
met  Only  a  circle  of  flushed  faces,  partly  con 
cealed  by  friendly  napkins. 

"  Don't  suppose,"  pursued  Lyddy  relent 
lessly,  "  that  I  am  unaware  of  the  outrageous 
manner  in  which  you,  all  of  you,  habitually 
not  only  regarded  my  poor  brother's  eccentrici- 


Bee  and  Her   Cellarette         63 

ties,  but  talked  about  them  among  yourselves! 
/know!" 

She  drew  in  her  chin  bridling.  Our  conster 
nation  was  so  patent  that  Lyddy  was  enjoy 
ing  herself  rarely.  Emboldened  by  our  lack 
of  spirit,  she  went  on. 

"  My  poor  brother  was  in  reality  one  of  the 
most  unfortunately  placed  (with  a  glare  at 
Bee),  most  deliberately  misunderstood,  (with 
a  glare  at  me),  disagreeably  ridiculed  (we 
were  all  in  on  this)  unkindly  treated  man  who 
ever  lived.  At  heart  he  was  —  " 

Here  Bobbie,  whom  we  had  all  forgotten  in 
our  fright,  took  a  hand.  My  single  lucid  rec 
ollection  of  the  following  speech  is  the  way 
a  morsel  of  lobster  trembled  on  my  fork  dur 
ing  the  entire  time. 

"  Dear  lady,"  he  said,  covering  Lyddy's 
shiny  knuckles  with  his  hand.  "  Why  bluff? 
Why  not  admit  the  truth?  7  knew  your 
brother  —  God  rest  his  soul !  —  and  a  stin 
gier,  meaner,  more  warped  old  misanthrope 
never  breathed!  Every  time  I  look  at  you,  I 
wonder,  I  actually  wonder  how  so  gentle  and 
sweet  a  soul  as  yours  was  ever  the  twin  of  his ! 
Your  brother  did  his  best  to  kill  the  friendship 
of  everyone  who  ever  felt  kindly  toward  him, 
and  that  his  widow  is  alive  to-day  is  largely 
due  to  the  fact  that  her  family  took  her  away 


66      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Then  we  fell  to  and  partook  of  Bee's  dain 
ties.  But  in  addition  to  the  usual  condiments 
they  were  seasoned  by  agitated  thought  and 
mingled  emotions. 

"  Come  to  our  studio  to-morrow  night,"  I 
commanded. 

"  That  will  be  nice,"  said  Mrs.  Jimmie. 
"  We  can  go  there  after  you  have  dined  with 
us  at  Claremont  after  our  ride." 

"  Have  you  an  automobile  large  enough  to 
hold  all  of  us,"  demanded  Lyddy,  as  we  rose 
to  go. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jimmie.  "  Three  or  even  four 
on  the  back  seat,  then  two  single  and  separate 
seats  in  the  middle  and  either  one  or  two  on 
the  front  seat,  depending  upon  who  drives  the 
machine." 

Lyddy  pondered  the  adaptability  of  that 
arrangement.  Then  she  turned  to  Bob. 

"  I  wonder  how  much  an  electric  runabout 
would  cost  which  holds  only  two  ?  " 

As  we  all  fell  into  the  tiny  hall  at  once, 
we  failed  to  hear  Bob's  reply. 

Jimmie  peeked  through  the  crack  of  the 
door. 

"  He  took  that  hurdle  without  a  smile,"  he 
whispered.  "They  are  holding  hands!" 

Then  Bob  joined  us  with  an  innocent  eye. 


Bee  and  Her  Cellarette         67 

Aubrey  shook  hands  with  him  gravely  and 
Jimmie  slapped  his  shoulder. 

No  one  said  a  word. 

"  But  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  I  said  anx 
iously  to  the  Angel  as  we  got  home.  "  He's 
engaged  and  he  loves  the  girl.  He  told  me 
so  to-night.  How  will  this  end?  " 

"  There  is  but  one  who  knows,"  said  the 
Angel  solemnly. 

"  You  mean  —  ?  "  I  whispered. 

"  Nt>,  I  mean  Bee !  "  answered  the  Angel 
with  a  grin. 

"Ohl" 


CHAPTER   V 

OUR    FIRST   STUDIO   DINNER 

ALL  the  next  day,  to  our  bitter  disap 
pointment,  it  rained  torrents,  so  that 
to  try  the  new  automobile  was  out 
of  the  question. 

Our  goods  arrived  in  boxes,  however,  and 
by  dint  of  using  tarpaulins  we  got  them  under 
cover  without  serious  wetting. 

Something  had  happened  to  the  steam  and 
we  had  no  heat,  so  we  wandered  around  our 
big  studio,  in  whose  vastness  our  great  boxes 
only  took  up  little  dabs  of  space,  feeling  for 
lorn  and  miserable  and  not  half  as  proud  and 
happy  as  we  had  expected  to  be. 

Two  men  from  the  ^olian  company  had 
been  there  all  day  voicing  the  Munsons'  big 
organ,  after  Aubrey,  with  the  help  of  the  jan 
itor,  Blackman,  had  connected  the  motor  with 
an  electric  light  fixture.  I  rather  grudged  the 
space  the  thing  took  up  —  about  an  eighth  of 
the  whole  studio  —  but  Munson  didn't  want 
to  move  it,  and  the  Angel  thought  it  would  be 
68 


Our  First  Studio  Dinner        69 

nice  to  have  it,  especially  as  it  could  be  played 
by  hand  as  well  as  by  rolls,  so  we  agreed  to 
let  it  remain. 

About  four  o'clock,  in  through  the  open  door 
walked  my  first  neighbour  —  an  artist  in  the 
building  —  Mrs.  Keep.  As  she  was  the  only 
one  who  ever  showed  herself  in  the  least 
friendly,  or  in  any  way  cultivated  the  delights 
of  our  acquaintance,  the  .others  contenting 
themselves  with  severe  criticisms  of  us,  be 
cause  we  were  not  painters,  I  recall  her  sweet 
friendliness  with  "  a  gratitude  so  fervent  as 
to  be  almost  base,"  as  Bee  puts  it. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  to  help  you?  "  were  her 
first  words. 

I  beamed  at  her. 

"  You  remind  me  of  Mrs.  March  in  Little 
Women,"  I  said.  "  She  always  came  in  with 
just  that  lovely  manner." 

Mrs.  Keep  laughed. 

"  It's  too  cold  for  you  here.  Come  down 
into  my  studio  and  have  a  cup  of  tea."  In 
half  an  hour  I  was  back  again,  bursting  in  on 
Aubrey  an  hysterical  but  wholly  transformed 
woman. 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh !  "  I  cried  dancing  up  and  down 
in  a  frenzy  of  excitement.  "  What  do  you 
think  Mrs.  Keep  is  going  to  do?  Do  you 
know  who  she  is  ?  She's  the  one  who  painted 


CHAPTER   V 

OUR    FIRST   STUDIO   DINNER 

ALL  the  next  day,  to  our  bitter  disap 
pointment,  it  rained  torrents,  so  that 
to  try  the  new  automobile  was  out 
of  the  question. 

Our  goods  arrived  in  boxes,  however,  and 
by  dint  of  using  tarpaulins  we  got  them  under 
cover  without  serious  wetting. 

Something  had  happened  to  the  steam  and 
we  had  no  heat,  so  we  wandered  around  our 
big  studio,  in  whose  vastness  our  great  boxes 
only  took  up  little  dabs  of  space,  feeling  for 
lorn  and  miserable  and  not  half  as  proud  and 
happy  as  we  had  expected  to  be. 

Two  men  from  the  ^olian  company  had 
been  there  all  day  voicing  the  Munsons'  big 
organ,  after  Aubrey,  with  the  help  of  the  jan 
itor,  Blackman,  had  connected  the  motor  with 
an  electric  light  fixture.  I  rather  grudged  the 
space  the  thing  took  up  —  about  an  eighth  of 
the  whole  studio  —  but  Munson  didn't  want 
to  move  it,  and  the  Angel  thought  it  would  be 
68 


Our  First  Studio  Dinner        69 

nice  to  have  it,  especially  as  it  could  be  played 
by  hand  as  well  as  by  rolls,  so  we  agreed  to 
let  it  remain. 

About  four  o'clock,  in  through  the  open  door 
walked  my  first  neighbour  —  an  artist  in  the 
building  —  Mrs.  Keep.  As  she  was  the  only 
one  who  ever  showed  herself  in  the  least 
friendly,  or  in  any  way  cultivated  the  delights 
of  our  acquaintance,  the  others  contenting 
themselves  with  severe  criticisms  of  us,  be 
cause  we  were  not  painters,  I  recall  her  sweet 
friendliness  with  "  a  gratitude  so  fervent  as 
to  be  almost  base,"  as  Bee  puts  it. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  to  help  you?  "  were  her 
first  words. 

I  beamed  at  her. 

"  You  remind  me  of  Mrs.  March  in  Little 
Women,"  I  said.  "  She  always  came  in  with 
just  that  lovely  manner." 

Mrs.  Keep  laughed. 

"  It's  too  cold  for  you  here.  Come  down 
into  my  studio  and  have  a  cup  of  tea."  In 
half  an  hour  I  was  back  again,  bursting  in  on 
Aubrey  an  hysterical  but  wholly  transformed 
woman. 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh !  "  I  cried  dancing  up  and  down 
in  a  frenzy  of  excitement.  "  What  do  you 
think  Mrs.  Keep  is  going  to  do?  Do  you 
know  who  she  is  ?  She's  the  one  who  painted 


yo     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

the  Mowgli  series  that  you  and  I  had  such  a 
fit  about  —  in  the  magazine  —  the  what-do- 
you-call-it  —  don't  you  remember  ?  And  in 
colour  they're  a  million  times  more  beauti 
ful —  I  just  wish  Kipling  could  see  'em!  — 
he'd  go  wild.  And  what  do  you  think  she  is 
going  to  do!  She's  going  to  let  me  have 
them  here  —  hang  'em,  you  understand !  On 
those  five  gaping  wall  spaces  that  have  made 
me  sick  all  day  wondering  what  we  would  put 
there!  Our  pictures  would  look  like  postage 
stamps.  When  I  said  that,  she  howled  and 
offered  them.  Isn't  she  dear?  Oh,  Aubrey, 
if  you  could  only  see  the  one  where  Mowgli  is 
leaning  against  the  panther  with  the  little  bear 
—  what  was  his  name  ?  coming  up  in  front. 
And  the  colours !  The  blue  black  of  the  pan 
ther's  fur  is  indicated  in  the  sheen  of  Mowgli's 
hair.  And  he  has  such  a  woodland,  wild,  un 
tamed  little  face  —  just  as  if  he  never  had 
known  any  human  beings,  and  to  think  we  are 
to  have  those  five  heavenly  mural  paintings  to 
look  at  every  day  and  every  night  —  " 

I  stopped  and  began  to  cry. 

"  Now,  now,"  said  Aubrey,  gently.  "  Don't 
get  so  excited.  You  are  all  trembling.  And 
your  poor  hands  are  quite  cold." 

"  It's  having  seen  so  much  beauty ! "  I 
wailed. 


Our  First  Studio  Dinner        71 

"  But  don't  cry  about  it.  What  would  Bee 
say?" 

I  wiped  my  eyes. 

"  I'm  glad  she  didn't  see,"  I  said. 

"  But  I  did  see,"  said  Bee  from  the  door 
way,  and  I  whirled  around  guiltily  conscious 
of  dim  eyes,  to  see  Bee  and  the  Jimmies. 
Lyddy,  the  genial  soul,  had  fortunately  been 
detained. 

"  Good  Lord  in  heaven !  "  said  Jimmie,  look 
ing  around.  "  What  a  barn  of  a  place !  " 

And  he  immediately  began  pacing  it  off. 

"Thirty-five  by  thirty!"  he  announced 
with  pride. 

Jimmie  walked  around  shaking  his  head. 

"  It's  the  greatest  place  I  ever  saw,"  he  said 
finally.  "  Mary,  have  you  seen  this  dining- 
room?  It  runs  the  length  of  the  apartment, 
except  for  the  width  of  the  kitchen.  Having 
the  kitchen  in  front  is  bad  —  very  bad." 

"  No,  it  isn't.  It's  nice,"  I  cried,  combative 
as  usual. 

"  And  this  little  staircase,  for  all  the  world 
like  a  yacht,"  said  Mrs.  Jimmie. 

"  And  upstairs,  three  bedrooms,  five  closets 
and  a  bath,"  called  Bee. 

"  And  the  balcony  over  the  door  practically 
gives  you  another  room,  doesn't  it?  " 

"  It's  simply  great !  "  commented  Jimmie. 


72     The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

Just  then  against  the  huge  twelve-foot 
window  in  the  studio  came  a  blast  of  weather 
which  flung  open  the  two  lower  doors  of  the 
window,  flooding  the  floor  with  water  and 
blowing  down  candlesticks  and  books  and  all 
objects  which  were  not  nailed  to  the  floor. 

Everybody  flew  to  rescue  something  break 
able,  while  Jimmie  and  Aubrey  succeeded  in 
getting  the  windows  shut  at  the  expense  of 
a  serious  wetting. 

Then  began  such  a  storm  as  none  of  us 
had  ever  seen  before,  of  rain  and  wind  and 
hail. 

After  half  an  hour  of  it,  Jimmie  pulled  me 
over  into  a  corner  and  said : 

"  Faith,  let  me  telephone  for  some  stuff  to 
be  sent  in,  and  let's  unpack  some  of  these  pack 
ing  boxes  and  build  a  fire  in  that  grand  old 
fireplace  with  'em,  and  have  a  regular  old  jag 
of  joy  all  the  evening,  will  you?" 

"  Oh,  Jimmie,  what  a  dear  you  are  to  think 
of  it!  Do  let's.  The  storm  makes  the  idea 
simply  perfect,  doesn't  it?" 

Jimmie  grinned  at  my  praise  and  forthwith 
went  to  the  telephone.  Then  Aubrey  called  up 
Blackman,  and  before  long  even  the  elevator 
boys  were  in  the  vein  of  the  thing  and  were 
bringing  up  old  boxes  and  bits  of  lumber,  for 
several  of  the  apartments  were  not  yet  finished, 


Our   First  Studio  Dinner        73 

so  that  in  half  an  hour  we  had  a  roaring  fire 
and  the  apartment  was  warm  for  the  first  time 
that  day. 

"  But  won't  it  put  you  out,  Faith  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Jimmie.  "  Have  you  a  cook?  " 

"  Have  I?  Wait  till  you  see  her!  She  is  a 
coloured  girl,  black  as  the  ace  of  spades  and 
her  name  is  Pearl  Marguerite!  " 

Just  the  lady  in  question  appeared  in  our 
midst.  Her  eyes  were  rolling  wildly  and  she 
twisted  her  apron  nervously. 

"Mis'  Jardine,"  she  said.  "I'd  lake  to 
speak  to  you  just  one  minute." 

I  got  up  from  a  soap  box  and  left  the  fire 
reluctantly. 

"  Jes'  see  what  done  come!"  whispered 
Pearl  Marguerite.  "  Hyah's  a  dozen  squabs 
and  a  salad  all  done  mixed  in  dis  yere  bowl, 
en  two  dozen  years  ob  cawn  —  raw  —  en 
all  dese  ayschers  awn  de  half  shell  awn  ice, 
en  —  " 

"  Has  the  stuff  come?  "  asked  Jimmie,  stick 
ing  his  head  through  the  swinging  door.  "  I 
thought  you'd  have  potatoes  and  coffee,  but  I 
ordered  everything  else.  Let's  see.  Oysters 
and  squab  and  claret  cup  and  — 

"  Jimmie,  it's  a  feast !  "  I  said  reproachful 
but  anticipatory.  We  had  had  little  to  eat  all 
day  and  were  ravenous, 


74     The    Concentrations  of  Bee 

Pearl  Marguerite  whispered  again: 

"  Shall  I  cook  our  steak  too?  " 

"  Cook  everything  in  sight !  We'll  set  the 
table  for  you.  Isn't  it  a  good  thing  now,  that 
you  have  spent  your  day  washing  the  Mun- 
sons'  dishes  and  getting  your  pantries  in 
order?" 

"  Ef  you  all  will  set  de  table  foh  me,  you  kin 
begin  awn  yo'  ayschers  soon  ez  you  please!" 
said  Pearl  Marguerite,  rising  to  the  occasion 
manfully. 

"  Let's  bring  the  table  in  the  studio,"  said 
Jimmie,  in  another  burst  of  inspiration,  "  and 
eat  here  by  the  fire." 

Mrs.  Jimmie,  Bee  and  I  made  short  work 
of  setting  that  table,  and  soon  we  heard  the 
clink  of  ice  in  glasses,  which  told  us  that  the 
Angel  was  also  at  his  share  of  the  work. 

That  first  studio  dinner  of  ours,  beside  a 
roaring  fire  made  of  wooden  boxes,  was  one 
long  to  be  remembered,  not  the  least  of  which 
was  our  utter  ignorance  of  what  the  future 
held  for  us.  I  particularly  recall  putting  in  a 
half  barrel  filled  with  paper,  excelsior  and  bits 
of  kindling  wood  —  it  had  been,  in  fact,  our 
waste  basket  during  the  day  —  and  the  glori- 
bus  way  that  half  barrel  burned,  especially  the 
awful  moment  in  which  we  thought  we  had 
set  the  chimney  on  fire,  added  just  the  brief 


Our  First  Studio   Dinner        75 

scare  necessary  to  our  peculiar  idea  of  enjoy 
ing  ourselves. 

Pearl  Marguerite  warmed  up  the  squabs  and 
served  them  with  bits  of  bacon  frizzling  on 
the  breast  of  each,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  our 
enthusiastic  comments  on  the  amount  of  fried 
potatoes  she  deemed  worthy  of  giving  us  with 
the  steak.  But  when,  after  we  had  eaten,  until 
as  Jimmie  gracefully  expressed  it,  he  could  feel 
his  necktie  bind  his  throat,  Pearl  Marguerite 
added  the  final  touch  of  elegance  to  our  repast 
by  appearing  in  the  double  doorway,  twirling 
her  fingers,  rolling  her  eyes  and  asking  if  we 
would  have  our  coffee  in  large  cups  or  in 
"  demi-chaises,"  I  thought  Jimmie  would 
never  come  to. 

It  was  upon  our  peals  of  laughter  that 
Blackman  arrived,  entirely  concealed  behind  a 
large  canvass,  which  proved  to  be  the  first  of 
Mrs.  Keep's  Mowgli  murals.  And  when  the 
others  were  borne  in  also,  the  others  shared 
my  raging  appreciation,  and  Blackman,  at  nine 
o'clock  at  night,  was  called  upon  to  fetch  the 
twenty-foot  step-ladder  which  belonged  to  the 
house,  and  forthwith  help  to  hang  everyone 
of  the  five,  while  I  sat  on  my  soap  box  and 
blinked  and  swallowed  but  dared  not  weep  out 
of  deference  to  Bee. 

How  shall  I  tell  of  the  wonderful  beauty 


76      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

and  mystery  with  which  that  brush  of  genius 
had  managed  to  invest  the  ever-fascinating 
portraits  of  the  five  phases  of  Mowgli ! 

Although  my  pen  staggers  in  the  attempt, 
it  is  only  a  stagger  of  incompetency  and  not 
of  unappreciativeness. 

We  all  watched  Blackman's  skill  in  handling 
those  large  canvasses  in  a  silence  which  Jim- 
mie  finally  broke. 

"  Everybody  ought  to  be  skilled  at  some 
form  of  manual  labour,"  he  said.  Whereat, 
having  various  and  sundry  recollections  of 
Jimmie  at  work,  I  laughed. 

'  You  needn't  laugh,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Jim 
mie  reproachfully.  "  Jimmie  papered  a  room, 
once  when  we  were  first  married,  all  by  him 
self,  and  did  it  very  nicely  too !  " 

This  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard  of 
Jimmie's  being  handy  at  anything  but  striking 
matches,  and  I  was  naturally  skeptical. 

"  Was  it  really  well  done  or  is  that  a  bride's 
recollection?"  I  demanded.  "Were  there  no 
mistakes?  " 

Jimmie  and  his  wife  glanced  at  each  other 
uneasily. 

"  Tell  her,"  said  Jimmie.  "  There's  no  use 
in  trying  to  keep  anything  away  from  a  female 
ferret !  Air  the  family  skeleton !  " 

I  smiled  in  triumph. 


Our  First  Studio  Dinner        77 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Jimmie,  reluctantly. 
"  One  strip  was  upside  down,  but  it  was  behind 
the  door,  and  really,  Faith,  it  didn't  show,  ex 
cept  when  the  door  was  shut !  " 

"  That  was  the  beginning  of  my  open  door 
policy,"  said  Jimmie  with  a  wink. 

I  relented  and  said  no  more.  Jimmie's 
foolishness  always  makes  a  hit  with  me  and 
he  knows  it. 

I  let  a  glorious  opportunity  pass. 

Then,  thoroughly  weary,  (for  though  I 
seldom  can  be  induced  to  perform  manual 
labour  myself,  my  enthusiasm  in  making 
others  work  is  quite  exhausting),  but  filled 
with  appreciation  and  joy,  we  rested  and 
watched  the  fire  die  down  and  listened  to  the 
beat  of  the  rain  against  the  windows  until  the 
Angel  happened  to  think  of  the  organ,  and 
forthwith  began  to  play. 

Alas  and  alack!  In  spite  of  our  individual 
troubles  and  Lyddy  Lathrop,  we  do  have  good 
times,  and  there  are  sights  and  sounds  stored 
away  in  our  memories  that  our  own  frivolity 
and  nonsense  would  not  dim  or  blur  for 
worlds.  And  that  last  hour  in  the  studio  that 
night  with  the  dancing  flames  now  illuminat 
ing  the  story  of  Mowgli  and  Shere  Khan  as  if 
Mowgli  indeed  were  waving  the  red  flower  at 
us,  and  now  sending  black  shadows  over  the 


78      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

mysterious  wild  creatures  of  that  wonder  for 
est,  while  the  music  from  the  great  organ  went 
thrilling  over  all,  is  one  which  should  be 
marked  with  a  white  stone. 


CHAPTER    VI 

WHAT    HAPPENED   AT    SHERRY'S 

BEE'S  toleration  of  Lyddy  was,  to  those 
of  us  who  know  her  best,  something 
wonderful. 

One  evening  while  things  were  still  in  this 
unsettled  state  Bee  came  in  and  said  abruptly : 

"  Wherever  you  and  Aubrey  are  going  to 
night,  you've  got  to  take  me.  I  left  Lyddy 
standing  in  the  doorway  of  our  apartments, 
hurling  remarks  after  me  that  if  I'd  stayed  to 
listen  to,  I  would  have  answered  in  kind  and 
she  would  have  had  me  where  she  wants  me." 

"  We  are  going  to  be  very  gay  to-night," 
I  said.  "  Aubrey  delivered  his  revised  MS. 
to-day  and  got  the  rest  of  his  advance  royalty, 
so  we  are  going  to  dine  down-town  and  go  to 
the  theatre." 

"May  I  come?"  asked  Bee. 

"  Why  certainly,  child !  You  didn't  think  I 
was  telling  you  that  in  order  to  excite  your 
envy,  did  you?  " 

"  We'll  be  glad  to  have  you,  Bee,"  said  the 
Angel.     And  at  that  Bee  looked  pleased. 
79 


8o      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  What  has  the  old  lady  been  up  to  now?  " 
I  asked  cheerfully.  "  Come  on  upstairs  while 
I  dress." 

"  Doesn't  it  sound  funny  to  say,  '  come  up 
stairs  '  in  a  New  York  apartment?  "  said  Bee, 
following  me  and  curling  herself  up  on  the  bed 
while  I  mussed  my  hair  going  down  on  all 
fours  on  my  closet  floor  to  get  my  best  hat  box. 

"  Here,  let  me  fix  your  hair  for  you,"  she 
said  as  I  emerged  red,  hot  and  vexed. 

"  No,  nobody  can  touch  my  hair  without 
making  my  hairpins  pull.  You  always  stick  a 
hairpin  straight  in,  as  though  you  thought  my 
head  was  soft." 

"  Not  soft,  exactly,"  said  Bee  politely. 
"  Only  spongy." 

"Tell  about  Lyddy  and  let  me  alone!"  I 
said. 

"  Well,  to-day  I  caught  her  reading  my 
letters !  " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake !  " 

"  And  that  is  why  she  turned  on  me  and 
said  things !  "  continued  Bee. 

"Look  here,  Bee.  Why  do  you  stand  it? 
I  wouldn't!" 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  would  —  for  all  that  I  mean 
to  get  by  it.  I'll  stand  a  whole  lot  more  than 
that.  Besides  —  " 

"  Well,  what?    Don't  stop  in  such  an  irritat- 


What  Happened  at  Sherry's     8 1 

ing  way  just  when  you've  got  to  something 
which  sounds  interesting,"  I  cried,  tumbling 
up  my  top  drawer  for  a  clean  pair  of  gloves 
which  were  mates. 

"  Well,  Hope  Loring  told  me  that  Laflin 
once  advised  her  to  cultivate  patience  with  the 
little  things  of  life,  and  it  struck  me  at  the  time 
that  all  I  ever  get  wild  about  are  little  things. 
Now  like  Lyddy's  reading  my  letters.  That 
isn't  much  after  all,  is  it?  " 

I  turned  and  looked  at  her. 

"  Let  me  feel  your  pulse,  Bee.  You'll  die 
if  you  keep  on  getting  holy  at  this  swift  pace. 
For  my  part,  I  consider  that  the  old  cat  did 
an  awful  thing.  Think  what  she  might  have 
found!" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Bee.  "  All  the  important 
letters  are  locked  up !  " 

At  that  I  fell  over  on  my  bureau.  Bee 
didn't  care  much  to  see  me  laugh.  She  hates 
to  make  that  kind  of  a  hit  with  me. 

"  I  might  have  known,"  I  said  wagging  my 
head,  "  that  such  a  holy  frame  of  mind  re 
ferred  to  catching  Lyddy  reading  tailors' 
announcements  and  fingering  samples !  "  I 
said. 

"  You  are  such  an  idiot !  "  observed  my 
sister  feelingly. 

Just  here  the  Angel  called  us,  and  with  a 


82     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

final  snatch  at  the  powder  box,  we  hurried 
down. 

It  was  a  clear,  starry  night  and  we  had  the 
proud  consciousness  of  having  left  none  of 
our  good  clothes  at  home. 

"Whither  are  we  bound?"  asked  Bee,  as 
Aubrey  led  the  way  to  our  waiting  taxi,  (a 
luxury  permitted  by  the  advance),  which  we 
hadn't  been  able  to  afford  for  nearly  a  year. 

"  Where  would  you  like  to  go,  Bee?  "  asked 
the  Angel,  with  a  twinkle  at  me,  reminding  me 
of  Bee's  violet  ways. 

"  Why,"  said  Bee,  pausing  as  if  in  uncer 
tainty,  "  wouldn't  Sherry's  be  satisfactory  to 
all  of  us?" 

"  Sherry's !  "  said  Aubrey  to  the  chauffeur. 

"  Oh,  but,"  said  Bee,  politely,  as  the  Angel 
followed  us  in,  "  you  didn't  ask  Faith.  Possi 
bly  you  would  have  preferred  to  go  to  the 
Plaza  or  —  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  said.  "  I  don't  care  where 
we  go." 

I  thought  I  detected  a  gleam  of  subdued 
excitement  in  Bee's  manner  as  we  entered 
Sherry's  and  swept  down  the  room,  but  as  I 
saw  no  reason  for  it,  I  thought  I  must  have 
been  mistaken. 

Aubrey  found  a  good  table  reserved  and 


What  Happened  at  Sherry's     83 

we  seated  ourselves,  extremely  well  pleased 
with  the  world. 

The  table  next  ours  had  an  air  of  expect 
ancy  which  attracted  our  attention,  and  as  is 
usual  with  us,  when  we  are  interested,  from 
the  time  the  party  entered  who  were  to  sit 
there,  we  spoke  but  little  to  each  other,  but, 
within  the  limits  of  tolerable  breeding  —  not 
the  best,  but  good  enough  —  we  listened  and 
observed  them,  for  the  women  at  least  were 
there  for  that  purpose. 

They  came  in  with  an  air  of  anticipation 
which  showed  that  some  of  them  at  least  were 
unused  to  dining  in  a  public  restaurant,  and 
it  presently  transpired  that  the  girl  in  white 
had  never  ordered  a  dinner  and  this  was  to 
be  her  chance. 

Our  table  was  next  theirs,  as  I  have  said,  and 
while  Aubrey  studied  the  menu,  Bee  and  I  had 
time  to  observe  our  neighbours. 

There  were  six  of  them.  One  Girl  in 
White,  one  Girl  in  Blue  and  a  Woman  in  Pink. 
One  Silly  Ass,  one  Gibson  Man  and  one 
Family  Man,  whose  wife  evidently  was  out  of 
town  and  who  plainly  was  invited  at  the  last 
moment  to  fill  up. 

It  was  a  party  incongruous  enough  to  be 
interesting  from  the  start,  and  before  they  had 
been  seated  ten  minutes,  I  remarked  to  Bee 


84     The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

that  I  was  going  to  have  the  time  of  my  life, 
and  she  nodded  without  speaking,  she  was  so 
afraid  she  would  miss  something. 

The  Silly  Ass  at  first  gave  no  reason  for  his 
existence.  I  could  not  find  an  excuse  for  his 
living  at  all.  The  Gibson  Man  exhibited  a 
patience  born  of  long  experience  with  women, 
while  the  Family  Man  bullied  the  waiter,  just 
to  show  that  he  was  master  of  the  present 
situation,  from  which  I  deduced  the  fact  that 
he  was  henpecked  at  home.  No  one  stoops 
to  bully  a  servant,  who  is  not  trying  to  get 
even  for  some  sort  of  domestic  tyranny  which 
he  is  unable  to  remedy. 

The  Gibson  Man  was  evidently  host,  and 
the  Woman  in  Pink  the  chaperon.  For  this 
reason,  and  apparently  no  other,  the  Family 
Man  exclaimed  loudly : 

"  Let's  have  a  round  of  cocktails  first ! " 

Aubrey  looked  at  me,  and  murmured, 

"  His  wife  evidently  doesn't  allow  him  to 
drink!" 

I  motioned  him  to  silence  and  boldly  went 
on  observing. 

The  Gibson   Man   looked  uncomfortable. 

"  I  have  never  had  a  cocktail,"  cried  the 
Girl  in  White. 

"  Oh,  then  you  must  have  one,"  exclaimed 


What  Happened  at  Sherry's     85 

the  Girl  in  Blue.  "  It  makes  you  feel  so  nice 
and  wobbly  in  the  elbow  joints !  " 

"  Well,  neither  of  you  girls  is  going  to  feel 
nice  and  wobbly  in  the  elbow  joints  while  / 
am  above  ground !  "  said  the  Woman  in  Pink, 
decidedly.  Whereat  the  Gibson  Man  drew  a 
sigh  of  relief,  and  turned  to  the  menu  card. 

"  What  shall  we  have?  "  he  said  to  the  Girl 
in  White.  "  As  this  is  your  first  experience, 
suppose  you  order  the  dinner  ?  " 

He  was  evidently  not  looking  for  trouble. 
He  seemed  simply  to  want  to  give  her  pleasure. 

Aubrey  looked  at  me  and  grinned.  Then 
he  wrote  five  items  silently  and  swiftly  on  a 
little  pad  and  handed  it  to  our  waiter,  whose 
face  lighted  as  he  read  its  concise  orders,  and 
with  a  muttered:  "  Bien,  monsieur!"  he  dis 
appeared. 

"  Oh,  I  should  simply  love  to !  "  squealed 
the  Girl  in  White.  Then  turning  to  the  Girl 
in  Blue,  she  said :  "  Now,  what  do  you  like  ? 
I  am  going  to  order  to  suit  everybody !  " 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  find  that  rather  diffi 
cult,"  said  the  chaperon,  who  seemed  hungry. 
Then  turning  to  the  Gibson  Man,  she  said: 
"  Just  because  I  won't  let  the  girls  have  cock 
tails,  there  is  no  reason  why  you  three  men 
shouldn't  have  them !  " 


86      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Good  work,"  said  the  Silly  Ass.  "  A  dry 
Martini  for  me,  old  chap !  " 

The  Gibson  Man  whispered  to  the  Woman 
in  Pink,  but  she  shook  her  head  and  motioned 
toward  the  girls. 

The  Family  Man  decided  on  a  Manhattan 
cocktail,  and  the  Gibson  Man  wrote  them 
down  with  an  order  of  Scotch  and  Soda  for 
himself,  and  let  the  waiter  go. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Girl  in  White,  "  how 
would  it  do  to  begin  on  oysters?" 

"  I  hate  oysters.  Make  it  little  neck  clams, 
for  me,"  said  the  Girl  in  Blue. 

"  How  many  want  oysters  ?  "  cried  the  Girl 
in  White.  "  Hold  up  your  hands.  Three  for 
oysters  and  three  for  clams!  Now  that's  all 
right.  Will  you  write  it  down?"  she  begged 
of  the  Gibson  Man.  "  You  write  and  we'll 
suggest." 

"  Now  a  soup !    Cream  or  bouillon  ?  " 

"  I  like  thick  soups  best,  but  they  do  take 
away  your  appetite ! "  said  the  chaperon. 
"  How  about  a  chicken  broth  in  cups?" 

"  Or  a  Petite  Marmite?  "  said  the  Silly  Ass. 

"  Or  a  green  turtle?  "  said  the  Family  Man. 

"  I  believe  I'll  change  my  order  of  oysters 
to  clams !  "  cried  the  Girl  in  White,  suddenly. 
The  Gibson  Man  gravely  made  the  change. 

"  Now  about  soup  ?  "  he  said  tentatively. 


What  Happened  at  Sherry's     87 

The  waiter  reappeared  with  the  cocktails, 
and  the  Family  Man  proposed  the  health  of 
the  ladies. 

"  To  you !  "  murmured  the  Silly  Ass  to  the 
Woman  in  Pink.  She  looked  at  the  Gibson 
Man  and  they  both  smiled. 

"About  the  soup?"  suggested  the  Family 
Man. 

"  Would  green  turtle  suit  everybody  ? " 
asked  the  chaperon.  It  had  made  her  a  little 
nervous  to  see  that  we  had  finished  our  oys 
ters  and  were  eating  our  fish. 

After  a  little  demur,  they  decided  on  three 
for  green  turtle  and  three  for  chicken  broth  in 
cups. 

"  Now  fish !  "  cried  the  Girl  in  White.  "  Is 
anybody  going  to  deny  me  a  broiled  lob 
ster?" 

"  A  broiled  lobster  as  a  fish  course !  "  cried 
the  chaperon.  "  My  dear,  think  a  moment !  " 

"  I  do  think !  I  am  thinking !  I  never  do 
anything  but  think  what  I  want  to  eat  in  a 
restaurant,  and  I  never  can  get  anybody  to 
join  me  in  a  lobster!  Sometimes  they  won't 
even  let  me  order  one !  " 

"  Well,  you  are  going  to  have  one  right 
now,"  said  the  Gibson  Man,  earnestly.  "  And 
I'll  join  you,  just  to  show  that  I  approve  your 
taste !  " 


88      The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

The  girl's  face  brightened  and  the  chaperon 
looked  appreciatively  at  the  Gibson  Man. 

"  I  think  that  was  lovely  of  him,"  I  mur 
mured  to  Aubrey,  but  Aubrey  only  smiled  as  he 
handed  me  the  sauce  tartare.  But  Bee,  for 
some  inexplicable  reason,  blushed. 

"  How  would  broiled  Spanish  mackerel 
do?"  suggested  the  Family  Man. 

"  I  adore  planked  shad  —  all  but  the  bones," 
said  the  Woman  in  Pink.  "  But  I'll  go  in  for 
the  mackerel  if  the  girls  want  it." 

It  was  finally  decided  to  order  bluefish. 

The  waiter  stood  on  the  other  foot. 

"Any  wine,  sir?"  he  suggested  deferen 
tially.  "  I  might  be  ordering  it,  sir." 

"May  they  have  champagne?"  asked  the 
Gibson  Man  in  a  low  tone.  As  the  Woman 
in  Pink  hesitated,  he  murmured,  "  Why  deny 
yourself  everything,  just  because  you  are  the 
chaperon  ?  " 

At  this  she  weakened  and  he  wrote  down  a 
champagne.  The  waiter  took  on  a  new  lease 
of  life  as  he  trotted  away  to  fill  the  order. 

"  What  do  girls  like  for  meat?  "  asked  the 
Family  Man,  an  eagerness  for  food  beginning 
to  glitter  in  his  eye.  Aubrey  glanced  at  him 
sympathetically  as  our  waiter  deftly  slipped 
portions  of  peas  to  keep  company  with  the 
broiled  chicken  on  our  plates. 


What  Happened  at  Sherry's     89 

"  Oh,  are  rice  birds  in  season  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  Girl  in  Blue. 

"  Rice  birds  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Family  Man 
involuntarily. 

"  I  am  afraid  they  are  not  in  season,"  said 
the  Gibson  Man  evenly.  "  How  would  quail 
do  or  snipe  ?  " 

"  Could  I  have  roast  beef?  "  demanded  the 
Family  Man. 

"  We  might  all  have  it  after  the  birds,"  sug 
gested  the  Woman  in  Pink. 

That  remark  alone  showed  that  she  was 
married.  Such  tact  in  catering  to  a  man's  ap 
petite  does  not  go,  as  a  rule,  with  the  spinster 
estate. 

"  Quail,  then,"  decided  the  Girl  in  White, 
"  and  instead  of  roast  beef  for  me,  chicken  in 
those  queer  things  —  you  know  —  all  stewed 
up  with  an  odd  tasting  sauce  and  cooked  in  a 
queer  sort  of  bowl  —  what  do  you  call  'em  ?  " 

"  Chicken  en  casserole,"  translated  the 
chaperon. 

The  Gibson  Man  wrote  patiently  and  the 
waiter  suggested  serving  the  champagne. 

The  Gibson  Man  looked  up  inquiringly,  and 
moved  by  the  thirsty  appeal  in  the  eyes  of  the 
two  men,  the  Woman  in  Pink  said : 

"  Yes,  do  let  him !  "  and  then  bit  her  lip  to 
keep  from  laughing.  "  But  first  send  him 


90      The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

along  with  as  much  of  the  order  as  has  been 
decided  on,  for  Heaven's  sake !  "  she  added. 
The  waiter  was  accordingly  dispatched.  The 
lines  of  anguish  smoothed  a  trifle  from  his 
brow,  and  he  started  on  a  trot. 

The  Girl  in  White  had  been  studying  her 
menu.  Suddenly  she  put  out  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  wait !  Has  he  gone  ?  Call  him  back ! 
I  want  to  change  my  order.  I  see  something 
here  that  I  would  like  much  better  than  quail 
—  I  —  " 

The  chaperon  reared  her  crest. 

"  It's  too  late  now,  dear!  "  she  said  evenly. 
"  Keep  that  for  another  time.  I'll  bring  you 
here  some  day  for  luncheon  and  then  we'll 
come  early  and  take  simply  hours  to  decide!  " 

"  Oh,  you  love !  "  cried  the  Girl  in  White, 
reaching  out  and  pressing  her  hand  ecstatic 
ally. 

The  waiter  came  hurrying  back  with  the 
oysters  and  clams.  He  was  plainly  nervous. 
It  was  already  half  past  eight  and  we  were 
having  our  salad. 

'  Take  those  clams  away !  "  cried  the  Fam 
ily  Man  rudely.  "  I  said  oysters.  Can't  you 
remember  a  little  thing  like  that  ?  You've  had 
time  enough  to  learn  the  order  by  heart !  " 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  said  the  unfortunate  menial 
humbly. 


What   Happened  at  Sherry's     91 

The  man  fairly  gobbled  his  oysters. 

"  How  disgusting  of  him !  "  I  murmured  to 
Aubrey. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  he  answered  me.  "  The 
fellow  may  be  uncouth,  but  he  has  my  sympa 
thy.  He  had  his  cocktail  exactly  fifty  minutes 
ago  and  they  have  been  talking  food  ever 
since.  At  present  I  am  wracked  with  anxiety 
to  know  whether  they  will  decide  on  hot  or 
cold  artichokes,  or  whether  it  will  be  aspara 
gus.  Listen !  " 

We  listened.  We  couldn't  help  it.  This 
was  better  than  a  one-act  play  and  we  didn't 
care  if  we  missed  the  curtain  raiser. 

"  Would  you  like  cheese  with  your  salad,  or 
after  the  sweets?  "  asked  the  Gibson  Man,  and 
his  tone  was  as  courteous  as  it  had  been  when 
they  began  to  order  —  just  an  hour  before. 

"  I'd  like  it  after,"  said  the  Girl  in  White. 

"  And  you?  "  he  asked  the  men. 

"  With !  "  snapped  the  Family  Man.  "  May 
that  fool  bring  the  soup  ?  " 

At  a  sign  the  waiter  sprang  forward.  The 
girls  were  still  toying  with  their  clams. 

"Oh,  wait  a  minute!  Don't  hurry  us!" 
cried  the  Girl  in  Blue.  "  Aren't  these  clams 
perfect  darlings!  " 

"  I  wish  I  were  a  clam! "  sighed  the  Silly 
Ass. 


92      The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  So  do  I ! "  growled  the  Family  Man. 
"  I'd  eat  one  your  size  with  pleasure!  " 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you  aren't  as  hungry  as  that ! " 
cried  the  Girl  in  White.  "  Have  I  been  slow 
in  ordering?  You  see  I  have  had  no  experi 
ence.  And  it  has  been  such  fun !  " 

"  You  have  not  been  too  slow !  "  lied  the 
Gibson  Man  nobly.  "  Just  tell  me  what  sort 
of  an  ice  you  like,  and  then  we  are  through 
with  this  part." 

"  Oh,  anything  very  sweet  and  rich  and 
done  up  in  cute  little  paper  boxes !  "  cried  the 
Girl  in  Blue. 

For  the  first  time  the  Gibson  Man  looked 
helpless.  He  shot  a  glance  of  appeal  at 
the  waiter,  who  bent  and  murmured  in  his 
ear. 

"  Nesselrode  pudding  might  please  her  taste, 
sir!" 

"Hold  your  tongue!"  cried  the  Family 
Man.  "  Don't  suggest  a  thing  until  your  help 
is  asked.  The  officiousness  of  some  of  these 
waiters  is  insufferable  f  " 

"  I  wished  him  to  translate,"  said  the  Gib 
son  Man  coldly.  The  Woman  in  Pink  sent 
the  Family  Man  as  settling  a  glance  as  if  she 
had  been  his  wife.  Evidently  he  understood 
the  quality  of  it,  for  he  shrank  visibly. 

Aubrey  carefully  took  the  sugar  from  his 


What   Happened  at  Sherry's     93 

coffee  cup  before  the  waiter  could  pour  his 
coffee. 

"  That  woman  is  masterly  in  her  manage 
ment  of  men,"  he  observed  to  me.  "  I  like  her 
generalship." 

"  Oh,  couldn't  I  have  a  Peche  Melba  instead 
of  a  nesselrode  pudding?"  asked  the  Girl  in 
White.  "  My  sister  had  one  once  and  she 
said  it  was  the  best  thing  she  ever  tasted.  She 
told  me  to  be  sure  to  try  one  the  very  first 
chance  I  got.  May  I  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly.  And  now  with  coffee  that 
will  do!" 

The  Gibson  Man  handed  the  waiter  the  pad 
and  leaned  back  in  his  chair.  He  managed  to 
look  at  his  watch.  It  was  ten  minutes  to  nine 
and  the  waiter  was  bringing  us  our  bill. 

The  Woman  in  Pink  touched  the  Gibson 
Man's  arm  with  her  fan. 

"  I  think  it  was  very  nice  of  you,"  she  said. 
"  It  is  so  difficult  to  please  everybody,  but  you 
seem  to  have  achieved  it." 

His  face  lighted  sunder  her  words. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said.  "  I  hope  I  have 
succeeded." 

We  rose  to  go,  and  the  last  thing  we  heard 
as  we  passed  out  was  the  voice  of  the  Girl  in 
White: 

"  Oh,  do  call  the  waiter  back !     I've  seen 


94      The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

something  here  I'd  so  much  rather  have 
than  —  " 

As  we  passed  their  table,  I  was  rendered 
speechless  by  seeing  Aubrey  bow  to  the  Gibson 
Man,  and  as  I  stepped  off  of  Bee's  train,  after 
she  had  shot  me  a  look  such  as  I  hope  she  used 
to  give  James,  I  saw  that  it  was  Laflin  Van 
Tassel. 

Then  the  secret  of  Bee's  silence  and  blush 
was  out. 

"  Did  you  know  who  it  was  all  the  time?  " 
I  whispered. 

"  Of  course.     Didn't  you  see  Aubrey  bow?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't.  I  don't  know  what  I  could 
have  been  about,"  I  said  regretfully. 

'  You  were  looking  at  the  menu,  dear," 
said  the  Angel.  "  He  waited  as  long  as  he 
could  to  bow  to  you,  but  finally  gave  it  up.  He 
sat  with  his  back  to  you." 

"  I  never  should  have  known  him,"  I  de 
clared.  "  He  is  as  handsome  as  the  Hermes !  " 

Bee  was  walking  at  my  side  in  an  unusua1 
silence.  Aubrey  was  smiling. 

"  By  the  way,  Bee,  how  is  Hope?  "  he  said 
suddenly. 

"  She  is  very  well  and  terribly  busy  with 
the  last  of  her  trousseau." 

Aubrey  managed  to  whisper  to  me. 

"  Bee  must  have  learned  from  Hope  that 


What  Happened  at  Sherry's     95 

Laflin  was  dining  here  to-night.  Don't  start! 
She'll  see  you!  " 

"  I  wonder  who  that  woman  with  him  is," 
said  Bee. 

I  looked  at  her,  but  she  seemed  unaware 
that  her  observation  was  at  all  illuminating. 
Suddenly  she  looked  up  at  me : 

"  Do  you  see  now  what  he  means  by  '  pa 
tience  with  the  little  things  of  life?  '  "  said  Bee. 
"  Weren't  those  girls  enough  to  drive  any 
sensible  man  insane?" 

"Do  you  see  him  often?"  I  asked  irrele 
vantly. 

She  looked  at  me  in  surprise. 

"  I  don't  know  him  at  all,"  she  said  with  a 
note  of  regret  in  her  voice  I  was  not  slow  to 
observe.  It  seemed  strange  to  know  that  Bee 
wanted  anything  she  couldn't  get. 

"  I  had  only  seen  his  photograph,"  she 
added.  "  They  are  all  very  proud  of  him." 

I  at  once  began  to  wonder  if  we  couldn't 
ask  him  on  one  of  our  Happy  Family  excur 
sions.  If  not,  I  knew  what  I  could  do.  Ask 
him  to  dinner! 

But  Bee !    To  think  of  it. 

Well,  as  usual,  she  had  selected  her  victim 
with  unerring  judgment. 

I  looked  at  her  critically  and  was  glad  that 
she  had  at  least  got  as  far  as  mauve. 


CHAPTER    VII 

BOB'S    ENGAGEMENT 

OUR  apartment  backs  up  to  a  theatrical 
boarding  house  and  from  our  win 
dows  we  can  see  literally  into  the 
lives  of  that  busy  hive  of  people,  everyone  of 
whom  "  does  something." 

We  can  hear  certain  things  also.  There  is 
a  pathetic  little  hunchback  on  the  third  floor 
east  who  plays  the  'cello  so  that  he  makes  me 
shiver  with  joy.  Into  the  low,  vibrating  tones 
of  that  instrument  he  pours  out  all  his  emo 
tions,  all  that  he  longs  for,  all  that  he  has 
missed  in  life  through  his  infirmity,  all  that 
he  has  hoped  to  achieve.  We  know  more  of 
that  man's  inner  life  than  he  dreams.  He  loves 
the  sound  of  our  big  organ  too,  for  whenever 
the  windows  are  open  on  mild  evenings,  he 
comes  and  listens. 

Then  there  is  the  Nice  Girl  on  the  fourth 
floor.  I  call  her  the  nice  girl,  although  she  is 
so  pretty  she  might  well  be  called  a  beauty, 
because  everything  she  does  is  so  self-respect 
ing  yet  so  pathetic.  We  can  look  down  into 
96 


Bob's  Engagement  97 

her  room  but  can  only  see  her  when  she  comes 
close  to  the  windows. 

She  must  be  bitterly  poor,  for  sometimes  she 
will  not  go  down  to  her  meals  for  a  day  or 
two  at  a  time.  She  must  creep  out  after  dark 
and  buy  bread  and  milk  and  the  like,  because 
we  can  see  her  heating  things  in  a  tin  cup  over 
the  gas  jet  by  the  window,  and  her  bottle  of 
milk  stands  out  on  the  ledge  every  day. 

Then  she  has  regular  laundry  days  when 
on  a  line  strung  across  her  room  she  hangs 
up  things  to  dry,  and  she  irons  her  handker 
chiefs  by  pasting  them  on  the  window  panes 
while  they  are  wet. 

I  mention  these  things,  not  because  they  are 
interesting  in  themselves,  but  because  they 
become  so,  when  done  by  a  girl  so  pretty  and 
graceful  and  dainty  as  my  nice  girl  seems. 
She  folds  everything  with  such  neatness.  She 
brushes  her  skirts  and  her  long  lovely  hair 
with  equal  regularity  and  care.  She  goes 
down  into  the  tiny  backyard  with  a  container 
of  gasoline  and  washes  her  white  serge  things 
and  re-trims  her  two  hats  until  you  would 
think  she  had  six,  and  every  day  she  emerges 
with  such  an  air  of  freshness  that  if  we 
couldn't  see  all  these  things,  we  would  imag 
ine  her  to  be  in  the  flower  of  prosperity. 

Now  and  then  we  meet  her  at  the  entrance 


98         The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

to  the  Subway,  and  I  am  always  looking  for  an 
opportunity  to  speak  to  her,  because  I  am  anx 
ious  to  know  her  well  enough  to  ask  her  to 
dinner.  She  would  never  know  that  our  wish 
for  her  society  was  largely  augmented  by  the 
sight  of  the  wretched  little  tin  cups  held  over 
the  gas  jet. 

"  If  only  I  could  rig  up  a  little  pulley  from 
our  window  to  hers,"  I  said  to  Aubrey,  "  how 
sweet  it  would  be  to  pack  a  small  basket  with 
tiny  dabs  of  the  nice  things  left  over,  which 
are  always  too  good  to  throw  away  and  send  it 
whizzing  down  to  her  window." 

"  You've  always  regretted  that  we  didn't 
have  a  cat  to  eat  up  the  left  overs,"  said  Au 
brey.  "  You  hate  to  waste  food." 

"  It  isn't  that,"  I  said  wistfully.  "  I  do 
really  feel  as  if  it  would  be  so  nice  to  help  a 
sweet,  high  spirited  girl  like  that.  I  tell  you, 
Aubrey,  New  York  has  thousands  of  girls  in 
it,  who  are  starving  along  just  as  this  girl  is, 
yet  who  never  complain.  Did  you  ever  think 
of  it?" 

"  Many  a  time.  And  I  respect  them  for 
their  reticence.  They  all  have  hard  luck 
stories,  but  they  never  tell  them." 

"  Hard  luck  stories  are  most  impressive 
when  they  are  not  told,  I  have  observed,"  I 
said,  and  Aubrey  nodded. 


Bob's  Engagement  99 

"  She  ought  to  marry  a  rich  man,  if  things 
went  right  in  this  world  —  which  they  never 
do,  except  in  your  stories,"  I  added. 

We  had  been  in  our  apartment  over  a 
month,  but  as  yet  Bob  Mygatt  had  not  been 
to  see  either  us  or  it.  We  had  several  times 
been  out  with  him  in  Jimmie's  motor,  but  in 
some  way  he  had  been  prevented  from  com 
ing  to  us,  so  that  when  the  Angel  said  pres 
ently  he  had  to  work  on  his  play  to-night,  but 
that  Bob  had  said  he  was  coming  up,  I  was 
both  surprised  and  pleased,  for  I  was  anxious 
to  hear  the  details  of  his  engagement,  and 
something  told  me  that  this  was  to  be  my  op 
portunity. 

And  so  it  proved,  for  no  sooner  had  Aubrey 
apologized  and  gone  into  Munson's  empty 
studio  to  work,  than  Bob  leaned  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  dropped  his  face  in  his  hands  and 
said: 

"  Well,  Highness,  I  want  to  tell  you  the 
whole  thing  and  get  your  advice !  " 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  Bob,  and  very  much 
interested,  as  you  must  know,"  I  answered. 

"  I  do  know,"  he  returned  gratefully,  rais 
ing  his  head  and  looking  at  me  with  those 
eyes  of  his,  in  a  way  that  made  me  obliged  in 
stantly  to  recall  the  fact  that  he  always  looked 


IOO  The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

at  Lyddy  in  the  same  way,  as  well  as  that  I 
was  married. 

"  Well,  —  if  you  knew  her  you  would  un 
derstand  the  whole  thing  without  a  word. 
I've  loved  her  for  two  years  and  I  believe  she 
loves  me,  but  - 

"  Get  to  the  point,  Bob !  How  can  I  under 
stand  anything  when  you  wander  on  like  that. 
Take  for  granted  that  I  know  you  are  dead  in 
love  with  each  other  and  get  on,  do !  " 

Bob  grinned. 

"  You  are  a  tonic,  ladybird,"  he  said.  Oh, 
how  wild  it  does  make  Aubrey  and  Jimmie  to 
hear  Bob  call  any  of  us  those  names!  But 
you  can  no  more  prevent  Bob's  doing  it  than 
you  can  prevent  the  wind  from  blowing.  They 
belong  to  his  Irish  tongue  as  though  they  had 
grown  there. 

"  Well !  Ava,  as  I  told  you,  is  a  walking 
conscience.  She  has  Ideals.  She  does  Right. 
And  she  holds  no  converse  with  Wrong.  As 
you  know,  she  has  a  voice  like  a  nightingale, 
but  she  can  no  more  act  than  a  milking  stool, 
and  it  shows  how  much  I  love  her  when  I  tell 
you  that,  knowing  she  might  ruin  my  piece,  I 
still  stipulated  that  she  should  sing  the  part 
of  Allie  Gayter,  when  I  signed  the  contract." 

He  paused  for  my  applause  and  I  gave  it. 

•"  That  was  fine  of  you,  Bob,"  I  said,  and  he 


Bob's  Engagement  101 

beamed.  "  But  I  really  don't  see  how  you 
could  very  well  have  done  any  less !  " 

He  looked  surprised  and  a  trifle  dashed. 

"  Because  marriage  is  a  partnership  and  you 
have  got  to  do  things  like  that  all  your  life. 
One  can't  soar  off  and  leave  the  other  to 
grovel.  The  soarer  must  haul  the  laggard 
along." 

"  True !  "  he  said  and  sighed.  It  apparently 
was  new  to  this  man,  whom  women  had  always 
spoiled,  to  do  generous  and  unselfish  things, 
and  it  was  still  more  disquieting  to  realize  that 
he  must  continue  to  do  them  and  to  see  them 
taken  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  Well,  she  learned  the  part  and  came  on  to 
New  York  last  month  to  rehearse.  She  lives 
just  back  of  you  in  the  — 

"  Is  she  tall  and  willowy,  with  blue  eyes 
and  light  brown  hair,  and  does  she  live  in  a 
back  room  on  the  fourth  floor  ?  "  I  cried  with 
pardonable  excitement. 

Bob  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  of  course.  You  can  see  right  down 
into  her  windows,  can't  you?  "  he  said.  "  Let's 
look." 

We  flew  to  the  big  studio  window,  opened 
the  door  of  it  and  leaned  out.  I  felt  no  fear 
of  catching  her  in  an  embarrassing  negligee 
because,  from  the  precautions  she  always  took, 


IO2   The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  knew  that  she  was  aware  of  the  outlook  from 
the  five  upper  floors  of  our  big  building. 

"  Listen !  "  he  said  quickly.  "  She  is  sing- 
ing!" 

Then  there  rose  on  the  still,  cool  night  the 
sounds  of  the  Intermezzo  from  the  Cavaleria 
Rusticana  played  on  the  'cello  of  the  little 
hunchback,  and  Ava  was  singing  the  Ave 
Maria  to  it,  in  a  voice  of  such  sweetness  and 
purity  that  I  caught  my  breath  in  delighted 
surprise. 

We  listened  until  the  end  came  and  then 
hopefully  waited  for  more,  but  evidently  some 
one  else  below  us  was  listening  also,  for  a 
foolish  hand  clapping  arose  and  then  came  the 
sound  of  a  window  closing. 

Bob  turned  away. 

"  That  ends  it.  She  will  sing  no  more. 
Wouldn't  you  think  any  fool  would  know  bet 
ter  than  to  applaud  music  like  that,  expecting 
to  get  more?  Now  if  it  had  been  rag  time 
and  they  had  clapped,  they  would  have  had 
another.  But  Ava  singing  that  Ave  Maria! 
Who  was  that  playing?  " 

"  It  was  a  poor,  pathetic  looking  little 
hunchback,  whose  room  is  just  under  hers,"  I 
replied. 

"  I  know.     I've  heard  her  rave  about  him. 


Bob's  Engagement  103 

She  says  his  music  gets  into  her  heart.  I'm 
glad  he  is  a  hunchback !  " 

"  Bob !  "  I  expostulated. 

"  You  know  what  I  mean !  I  mean  I'm  glad 
she  couldn't  possibly  fall  in  love  with  him." 

"  She  could  if  she  wanted  to,"  I  said  cruelly. 
"  He  is  not  objectionable  to  look  at  and  his 
face  is  perfectly  beautiful." 

"  Ava  likes  tall  men,"  said  Bob  straighten 
ing  himself. 

"I  —  I  wish  you  would  bring  her  to  see 
me,"  I  said,  diffidently,  not  wishing  to  tell  Bob 
of  the  poverty  which  she  evidently  had  con 
cealed  from  him. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  have  any  influence 
with  her  now,"  he  said  gloomily. 

"  Well,"  I  said  patiently,  "  if  you  would 
ever  get  on  with  your  story,  I  might  know 
what  you  are  talking  about." 

"  It's  not  much  when  all  told.  Simply  that 
the  manager  wanted  me  to  introduce  more 
lyrics  into  my  piece  —  you  know  The  Alliga 
tor  Pear  Tree  is  one  of  these  farce  comedy 
things  with  songs  interpolated.  Well,  I 
couldn't  seem  to  suit  them  with  anything  of 
my  own,  so  I  had  some  songs  sent  in  from 
aspiring  young  authors,  and  two  of  them  were 
rotten  in  themselves,  but  they  gave  me  just 


104  The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

the  idea  I  wanted.  So  I  sent  the  songs  back 
and  wrote  some  new  lyrics,  with  different 
metre  and  rhymes  and  all  that,  so  that  it  was 
practically  my  stuff,  and  ran  them  in.  The 
manager  liked  them  and  everything  went  all 
right  till  Ava  looked  them  over.  Then  she 
refused  to  sing  them.  She  knew  I  had  sent 
back  the  songs  and  she  kicked  up  a  sort  of 
a  fuss  about  that  —  got  kind  o'  maudlin  over 
the  disappointment  it  would  be  to  the  author 
to  see  'em  come  home  to  roost.  But  when  she 
found  that  I  had  used  the  same  idea,  although 
she  realized  that  it  was  in  a  different  form, 
there  was  simply  the  devil  to  pay.  You'd  have 
thought  that  she  had  discovered  that  I  had 
slain  my  aged  grandmother  and  walled  up  her 
remains.  She  said  things  until  I  got  mad  and 
left  the  rehearsal." 

"  Did  she  ask  you  to  take  them  out?" 

"  No.  She  asked  me  to  pay  the  other  fel 
low  for  the  use  of  his  brains !  " 

"  Then  what  did  she  do  when  you  re 
fused?" 

"  She  resigned  her  part.  Actually  gave  up 
for  a  scruple,  the  thing  she  has  wanted  to  do  all 
her  life!" 

I  knew  now  why  she  was  cooking  things 
over  her  gas  jet. 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do?  "  I  asked. 


Bob's  Engagement  105 

"  I  don't  know.     You  tell  me !  " 

"  I  can't  advise  you  until  I  know  which 
you  care  most  to  keep  —  your  love  or  your 
pride." 

"  I  want  the  girl.     I  want  my  Ava !  " 

"  Then  buy  those  songs  and  write  her  that 
you  have  paid  for  them.  Can  she  still  have  the 
part  if  she  should  want  it?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  The  rehearsals  have  been 
awfully  interrupted  and  delayed.  And  they 
don't  find  it  easy  to  get  anyone  with  the  pecul 
iar  high  voice  that  some  of  the  songs  need. 
You  see  I  wrote  them  especially  to  exploit  her 
voice." 

"  Then  act  at  once  and  see  what  comes  of 
it." 

"  Is  that  your  advice?  Can't  you  think  of 
any  other  way?  " 

"  No,  and  it  will  be  good  for  you,  Bobbie, 
to  have  to  choke  down  just  that  unpalatable 
piece  of  humble  pie.  You  know  you  are  pretty 
badly  spoiled  and  you  wear  a  haughty  crest." 

"Can't  you  think  of  anything  else?  Any 
thing  quite  different?  " 

"  Yes,  one  thing  radically  different,"  I  said. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  said  brightening. 

"  Marry  Lyddy !  "  I  cried,  laughing.  "  Why, 
Bob,  you  are  actually  blushing!  How 
funny!" 


106  The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  I'll  think  over  your  advice,"  he  said,  ris 
ing  and  holding  out  his  hand. 

"My  last?" 

"  No,  your  first.  Don't  disturb  the  old  man. 
Tell  him  I  said  '  Good  luck  '  to  him.  I  hope 
his  play  will  be  a  success !  " 

And  with  that  he  was  gone. 

Two  days  later  I  was  surprised  by  a  call 
from  the  nice  girl. 

"  You  won't  think  it  strange,  my  coming 
this  way,  will  you  ? "  she  said.  And  as  I 
hastily  reassured  her  I  saw  that  she  was  pret 
tier  than  ever  at  close  range. 

"  Not  at  all.  I've  often  wanted  to  write 
you !  "  I  said  smiling. 

"  Why,  can  you  see  me  too?  "  she  said  go 
ing  toward  the  window. 

"  Can  you  see  us  ?  "  I  cried  following  her. 

"  Oh,  I  know  quite  a  good  deal  about  you!  " 
she  said,  laughing.  "  You  won't  let  your  hus 
band  smoke  his  pipe  in  your  apartment.  He 
smokes  out  of  the  Munsons'  bathroom  win 
dow  !  " 

"  When  he  smokes  a  vile  pipe,  he  does,"  I 
said  firmly.  "  Now  you  will  stay  to  lunch 
with  me  so  that  we  can  have  a  good  talk,  won't 
you?" 

As  we  reached  the  window  we  both  looked 
put.  Her  poor  little  gas-jet  was  in  plain  sight 


Bob's  Engagement  107 

with  the  tin  cup  still  standing  on  its  little  iron 
ring.  Her  face  flushed  crimson  and  she 
caught  her  lip  between  her  teeth. 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  have  just  had  my  lunch," 
she  said  proudly.  But  a  quick  glance  showed 
a  quivering  chin. 

I  felt  the  blood  go  prickly  in  my  veins,  for 
it  was  barely  twelve  o'clock.  But  she  turned 
away,  and  as  we  sat  down  I  could  see  that  she 
had  conquered  her  feeling  of  chagrin  and  was 
herself  again. 

"  I  have  often  wanted  to  know  you,  even 
before  I  knew  who  you  were,"  she  began. 
'  Then  when  a  note  came  from  Bob,  saying 
that  you  wanted  him  to  bring  me  to  call,  I 
knew  that  he  had  been  here  and  consulted  you 
about  our  affairs  and  that  he  was  acting  under 
orders." 

"  Oh,  no!  "  I  cried.    "  I  only  suggested." 

"  What  did  you  suggest?  " 

"  I  suggested  that  he  marry  another 
woman !  " 

She  laughed  and  flushed  a  little,  delicately. 

"  And  did  that  have  the  desired  effect  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Its  flash  lighted  his  pathway  for  a  mo 
ment  —  showed  him  where  to  step,  so  to 
speak,"  I  answered. 

She  mused  a  moment  in  silence. 


lo8    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  I  knew  you  could  understand,"  she  said. 
"  And  as  I  couldn't  —  I  simply  couldn't  talk 
to  Bob  or  to  you  before  him,  I  decided  to  come 
and  see  you  alone." 

As  she  evidently  expected  no  response,  I 
made  none,  and  presently  she  said  abruptly, 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Bob?  " 

"  Just  about  what  you  think,  only  in  a  lesser 
degree.  I  am  not  in  love  with  him,  but  I  rec 
ognize  his  fascination  and  his  faults." 

"  Exactly.  And  his  faults  are  terrible.  But 
after  all,  I  cannot  forget  —  the  rest.  He  fas 
cinates  me  with  his  odd,  funny  ways  and  his 
frank,  open  love  making  until  I  feel  as  if  — 

"  I  know.  You  feel  as  if  you  could  almost 
follow  him  through  the  streets  like  a  dog! 
It's  odd  how  such  no-account  chaps  can  be  so 
hypnotic!  "  I  exclaimed. 

She  laughed  delightedly. 

"You  do  understand  him!"  she  cried. 
"  Now  I  have  no  sense  of  humour,  Bob  says, 
yet  I  don't  agree  with  him  on  that  point,  for 
when  he  sits  on  the  floor  at  my  side  and  looks 
up  at  me  and  —  and  says  things,  I  love  him 
with  all  my  heart,  yet  I  feel  the  ridiculousness 
of  his  calling  me  '  lady  bird  '  and  '  highness  ' 
and  '  white  princess  '  and  words  that  he  saves 
for  me  alone.  Now  isn't  that  having  a  sense 
of  humour?  " 


Bob's   Engagement  109 

I  simply  stared  at  her  a  moment.  Then  I 
said  vaguely : 

"Er  —  what?     What  did  you  say ?" 

"  I  asked  you  if  that  didn't  prove  that  I  had 
a  sense  of  humour?  Aren't  you  listening  to 
me?" 

"Have  you  known  Bob  Mygatt  long?"  I 
asked. 

"  Three  or  four  years,  off  and  on,"  she  an 
swered. 

"  In  that  time  have  you  seen  him  much  in 
the  company  of  others  ?  " 

"  No,  mostly  alone.     Then  I  have  had  — 
well,  I  think  I  must  have  a  ton  of  letters  from 
him.     He  writes  as  easily  as  he  talks.     Why 
do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  —  well,  because,  he  —  he  carries 
on  with  others,  you  know  —  not  seriously  — 
but  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  know !  You  should  see  him  make 
love  to  my  mother.  She  is  large  and  fat,  yet 
Bob  sits  at  her  feet  and  traces  resemblances 
to  me  in  her  appearance  — -  yet  everybody  says 
I  look  like  father's  family  —  until  she  laughs 
herself  red  in  the  face.  And,  much  to  her  dis 
comfiture,  he  propels  himself  all  over  the  room 
in  a  sitting  posture,  clasping  his  knees  if  he 
moves.  And  if  she  says  to  him  with  great 
severity :  '  Mr.  Mygatt,  did  your  mother  never 


HO   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

teach  you  manners  ?  '  he  always  says  earnestly  : 
'  No,  Mrs.  Corliss,  she  left  all  that  to  you ! ' 
Then  of  course  it's  all  over  and  after  that 
she  can't  do  anything.  Secretly  she  adores 
him." 

I  began  to  wish  the  Nice  Girl  hadn't  called. 

"  Well,  about  this  trouble  between  you,"  I 
said,  hastily  changing  the  subject.  "  How 
does  it  stand  now  ?  " 

"  Practically  just  where  it  stood  before.  We 
are  still  engaged,  but  his  offering  to  pay  poor 
Mr.  Shupe  for  those  lyrics  isn't  the  trouble. 
It's  because  after  seeing  the  way  he  acted 
about  it,  how  can  I  be  sure  that  the  rest  of 
The  Alligator  Pear  Tree  is  his?  Do  you 
know,  I  have  never  put  it  into  words  before, 
and  I  hate  to  now,  but  Bob  Mygatt  actually 
has  no  conscience!  " 

"  Do  you  know  what  /  think  is  the  matter 
with  him?  "  I  said. 

"No,  what?" 

"  I  believe  that  he  actually  doesn't  know 
right  from  wrong  when  he  sees  them !  " 

Ava  Corliss  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and 
her  hands  fell  at  her  sides  totally  relaxed. 

"That  is  the  truth!"  she  cried.  "That 
explains  everything  about  him  that  has  ever 
puzzled  me.  Yes,  that  is  it.  It  isn't  that  he 
is  consciously  bad.  He  simply  doesn't  know." 


Bob's  Engagement  III 

She  half  way  closed  her  eyes  and  thought 
seriously  for  a  moment.  Then  she  said : 

"  That  point  of  view  alters  everything.  I 
think  I  see  my  duty  now." 

"Do  you  always  do  your  duty?"  I  asked 
with  awe.  Duty  to  me  was  always  the  one 
thing  I  exercised  every  faculty  to  get  out  of 
doing. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  with  an  exalted  look. 
"Don't  you?" 

"  Er  —  oh,  yes.  Yes,  of  course,"  I  said, 
hastily.  I  remembered  just  in  time  that  Bob 
said  she  had  no  sense  of  humour.  I  began  to 
see  why  he  said  so.  Her  manner  after  she 
spoke  of  duty  and  the  peculiar  look  in  her  eyes 
indicated  a  faint  trace  of  the  fanatic.  I  re 
membered,  too,  what  Bob  said  about  her  scru 
ples. 

When  luncheon  was  announced,  I  begged 
her  again  to  join  me,  but  she  refused  with 
lifted  head,  and  hastily  said  good-bye.  I  came 
back  after  showing  her  out,  pondering  over  her 
unusual  beauty  and  the  strangeness  of  her  en 
gagement  to  Bob  Mygatt. 

The  next  bulletin  came  from  Bob  in  the 
shape  of  a  note. 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  advice,  dearest  and 
best  of  ladybirds,"  he  wrote.  "  Everything 
has  come  out  O.  K.  I  told  her  I  had  paid  for 


112    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

those  lyrics  and  the  lie  went  down  her  pretty 
white  throat  like  an  ice  cream  soda  on  a  hot 
day.  But  God  keep  her  from  ever  meeting 
Shupe.  Even  if  we  were  married,  I  believe 
she'd  leave  me  if  she  ever  found  out.  Ava  is 
still  to  sing  the  role  of  Allie  Gayter  and  we 
open  in  New  Haven  on  the  I2th.  Can't  you 
all  make  up  a  party  and  come  up  for  the  pre 
miere?  With  dearest  love,  as  ever,  Bob." 

"  P.  S.  Of  course  you  know,  dear  heart 
of  ice,  that  I  am  not  naturally  a  villain.  I 
am  only  drawn  into  sin  by  my  poverty.  I  am 
over  ears  in  debt  and  couldn't  spare  a  sou  for 
Shupe  to  save  my  immortal  soul  from  the 
devil's  frying.  So  keep  my  sekert!  Bobbie." 

I  will  own  that  by  this  time  I  was  thor 
oughly  startled.  Bob  liked  me,  I  was  sure. 
I  was  equally  sure  that  he  valued  my  good 
opinion.  Why,  then,  should  he  confess  to  me 
that  he  had  deliberately  lied  to  the  woman  he 
loved,  unless  he  thought  it  was  no  harm  and 
was  sure  I  would  agree  with  him?  Didn't 
this  prove  that  Bob  didn't  know  right  from 
wrong? 


CHAPTER    VIII 

NAPOLEONIC    STRATEGY 

IN  my  fond  but  foolish  intention  of  giving1 
Bee's  affairs  a  lift  by  arranging  for  her 
to  meet  the  man  she  had  decided  to  marry, 
I  reckoned  without  my  host.  I  had  forgotten 
how  competent  my  sister  was  at  managing  her 
own  affairs.  But  I  soon  had  my  attention 
called  to  the  fact  by  a  series  of  events,  small 
in  themselves,  yet  significant  when  viewed  in 
their  proper  sequence  and  perspective. 

The  first  was  the  assiduity  with  which  Bee 
cultivated  Hope  Loring's  friendship,  instead 
of  Sallie  Fitzhugh's,  who  was  of  her  own  kind, 
while  the  tomboy  Hope  was  decidedly  out  of 
my  sister's  orbit. 

Laflin  was  Hope's  favourite  cousin,  and 
those  two,  with  Hope's  brother  Jermyn  were 
all  crazy  over  athletics,  speedy  motors  and  all 
the  forms  of  active  sports  which  Bee  secretly 
disdained.  Therefore,  I  was  once  more  forced 
to  a  reluctant  admiration  when  I  discovered 
that  Bee  had  consulted  Mr.  Loring,  Hope's 
father,  about  her  affairs,  for  I  at  once  sus- 
"3 


114    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

pected  that  she  intended  to  reach  Laflin 
through  his  interest  in  his  profession.  Just 
how  I  did  not  see.  But  I  knew  that  I  should 
soon  discover. 

The  next  thing  I  knew  we  were  all  invited 
to  Coolmeath  to  a  polo  match  on  the  borings' 
private  polo  grounds. 

Coolmeath  was  on  the  Hudson  in  the  Po- 
cantico  Hills,  and  had  been  repurchased  by 
Mr.  Loring  very  advantageously  for  Hope, 
with  her  own  money  made  so  miraculously 
during  her  mysterious  illness. 

Although  it  stood  in  Hope's  name,  as  was 
usual  with  this  devoted  family,  they  were  all 
there,  with  Mrs.  Loring  at  the  head  of  the 
house,  just  as  she  used  to  be  when  Coolmeath 
was  theirs  before  their  loss  of  fortune. 

It  was  vaguely  understood  that  Hope  and 
Cedric  Hamilton  would  take  it  over  when  they 
were  married,  but  nobody  who  knew  Hope, 
placed  much  faith  in  the  rumour,  for  Hope 
knew  as  much  about  housekeeping  as  a  Mal 
tese  kitten,  whereas  she  was  an  authority  on 
polo  and  football  and  all  the  heroic  accom 
plishments  that  a  gentleman  like  herself  should 
practise. 

Jimmie  took  Bee,  the  Angel,  Mrs.  Jimmie 
and  myself  in  his  motor.  Lyddy  had  an  en 
gagement  with  Bob,  so  miraculously  timed  as 


Napoleonic   Strategy  115 

almost  to  suggest  the  hand  of  Providence  or 
Bee,  so  we  did  not  have  to  bother  with  her. 

When  we  arrived,  we  found  the  Fitzhughs, 
the  Lorings,  including  Jermyn  and  his  present 
inamorata,  Miss  Cynthia  Willing,  Stony  Stew 
art  and  his  wife  and  a  number  of  young  peo 
ple,  who  carried  themselves  with  so  much 
importance  we  felt  that  we  ought  to  know 
them,  and  were  quite  humiliated  at  being 
obliged  to  be  introduced. 

Laflin  Van  Tassel  had  not  yet  arrived,  but 
was  expected,  and  was  bringing  with  him  Mrs. 
Pakenham  and  Miss  Amy  Levering. 

These  names  told  me  nothing,  but  I  saw  by 
the  way  Bee  lifted  her  head  and  allowed  the 
green  in  her  eyes  to  supplant  the  gray,  that 
she  knew.  I  managed  to  ask  her : 

"  The  chaperon  at  his  dinner  at  Sherry's," 
she  answered  cautiously,  without  moving  her 
lips,  and  the  one  we  called  '  the  Girl  in  White.' ' 

"  The  one  who  did  the  ordering?  "  I  whis 
pered. 

She  nodded  her  head  invisibly. 

"  I  must  tell  Aubrey.  He  is  still  wondering 
what  she  wanted  to  change  that  last  order 
to!" 

Bee  smiled.  Then  reluctantly  she  allowed 
herself  to  be  removed  to  the  polo  field. 

The  game  was  delightful.     Hope  played, 


116    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

looking  like  a  pretty  boy  in  her  linen  divided 
skirt  and  her  smart  brown  boots,  and  Cedric 
Hamilton  and  Jermyn  and  Stony  Stewart,  all 
the  boys  in  fact,  were  worshipful  as  ever,  and 
even  more  devoted  and  tender  because  of  her 
wretched  illness  and  her  plucky  recovery. 

I  saw  Laflin  when  he  came,  but  there  was 
no  opportunity  to  introduce  his  party  to  Bee. 

When  the  game  was  over  and  we  all  went 
back  to  the  pergola  and  the  marquee  for  re 
freshments,  Sallie  Fitzhugh  happened  to  say 
that  they  were  thinking  of  building,  and  asked 
Mrs.  Jimmie  what  her  idea  of  a  summer  cot 
tage  was. 

As  Laflin  and  Miss  Levering  had  not  yet 
arrived  from  the  polo  grounds,  there  was 
nothing  for  Bee  to  do  but  listen  and  join  in 
the  discussion,  which  at  first  sounded  decid 
edly  desultory,  because  Bee  was  permitting 
her  attention  to  wander. 

"  Yes,"  I  heard  my  sister  say,  "  I  think  you 
are  quite  right,  Sallie.  Go  by  all  means  to 
a  spot  which  has  neighbours.  What  do  you 
want  to  pioneer  for?  Why  wade  in  mud  while 
roads  are  being  built?  Why  wait  for  lights 
and  telephones  to  be  installed,  unless  you  can't 
afford  to  go  where  luxuries  of  this  sort  are 
already  put  in?  You,  fortunately,  can  afford 
—  anything ! " 


Napoleonic  Strategy  117 

"  But  Greenacre  is  very  conventional  —  my 
husband  calls  it  smug." 

"  But  it  is  also  distinctly  fashionable,"  said 
Bee.  '  You  are  sure  of  your  neighbours.  The 
keynote  of  a  proper  mode  of  living  has  already 
been  struck  and  the  others  have  had  the  good 
taste  to  chime  in." 

"  I  will  admit,"  said  Sallie,  "  that  conven 
tionality  pleases  me  just  as  well  as  it  does  you, 
Bee.  But  lately  —  since  we  — 

"  Since  you  have  been  seeing  so  much  of 
the  Jimmies,"  said  Bee,  with  faint  scorn,  "  you 
have  felt  ambitious  along  their  lines,  have  you? 
I  know  how  it  feels.  It  infects  me  at  times. 
But  I  always  cross  my  ringers  when  I  feel  the 
first  symptoms.  Take  my  advice,  Sallie.  Don't 
you  try  to  be  original.  You'd  only  end  in 
being  queer." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  Sallie,  smil 
ing,  "  but  I  wish  you  would  convert  Laflin 
to  your  point  of  view.  He  wants  me  to  build 
in  a  tree  or  under  ground,  with  subterranean 
passages  and  tunnels  and  hanging  gardens  — 
anything  in  the  world  to  be  different  from 
everybody  else.  The  only  trouble  would  be  to 
find  a  spot  original  enough  for  his  originality." 

It  is  not  often  that  my  sister,  Mrs.  Lathrop, 
sets  a  trap,  baits  it,  then  deliberately  walks 
into  it  and  hears  it  snap  on  her  own  little  paw, 


Il8    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

but  that  is  exactly  what  she  had  been  doing 
in  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour. 

The  expression  on  her  face  was  w*orth  look 
ing  at.  She  made  no  reply,  but  I  saw  by  her 
rapidly  changing  countenance,  that  she  was 
where  it  would  require  some  of  her  finest  men 
tal  work  to  extricate  herself  without  showing 
where  the  trap  had  nipped  her. 

"  Here  they  come,"  said  Sallie.  "  Laflin 
and  Amy,  absorbed  as  usual." 

She  beckoned  to  the  slowly  strolling  couple, 
who  quickened  their  pace  and  joined  us  in 
the  pergola. 

The  pergola  to  my  mind  was  the  loveliest 
spot  in  all  Coolmeath.  It  was  covered  with 
climbing  roses  and  honeysuckle,  and,  except 
for  the  bees,  who  evidently  were  as  partial  to 
its  cloying  sweetness  as  I  was,  it  was  ideal 
in  its  loveliness. 

Personally,  however,  I  am  on  terms  of  the 
most  distant  politeness  with  bees,  and  except 
for  the  time  when  Jimmie's  bulldog  chased 
my  cat  and  then  carelessly  sat  down  on  a  bee 
to  cool  off,  I  have  never  been  in  sympathy 
with  bees'  method  of  drawing  attention  to 
themselves. 

That  one  time,  however,  justified  their  ex 
istence.  The  bee,  I  remember,  did  not  go  with 
the  dog  as  he  set  off  on  his  second  heat,  which 


Napoleonic  Strategy  119 

was  just  as  well,  for  at  the  rate  he  was  trav 
elling  when  he  disappeared  over  the  hedge, 
even  the  weight  of  a  bee  would  have  been  a 
distinct  handicap. 

I  mention  the  occurrence  at  this  point,  be 
cause  as  Laflin  and  Amy  Levering  entered  the 
pergola,  a  bee  flew  into  her  hair  and  there  was 
some  little  confusion  before  Laflin  got  it  out, 
so  that  their  introduction  was  very  informal, 
for  we  were  all  talking  at  once,  and  it  was 
some  moments  before  Sallie  brought  the  con 
versation  back  to  the  building  of  cottages, 
which  she  did  by  saying : 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  are  all  against 
you,  Laflin,  in  your  suggestion  to  branch  out 
and  build  in  an  unusual  way." 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  said  Laflin,  with  the 
young  architect's  usual  weariness  in  encounter 
ing  conventions,  "  although  I  did  hope  —  " 

"  You  did  hope  that  our  being  relatives,  you 
could  bamboozle  us,"  said  Norman  Fitzhugh, 
"  into  being  —  into  being  —  " 

"  The  yellow  dog  for  you  to  try  your  in 
cipient  architectural  madness  on,"  said  Jim- 
mie.  "  But  they  won't  —  any  more  than  I 
would !  Experiments  cost  money,  son !  " 

"I  know!  I  know!"  said  Laflin.  "It's 
the  same  old  story.  I  can  get  all  the  work  I 
want,  on  planning  hideously  commonplace 


I2O   The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

houses  for  people  with  no  imagination,  on 
grounds  which  are  flat  and  uninteresting.  All 
that  most  of  my  clients  seem  to  care  for  is  a 
strip  of  beach  or  golf  links.  They  haven't  a 
soul  for  the  artistic  or  the  odd  or  the  surprises 
which  an  imaginative  mind  can  create  out  of 
even  one  acre  of  land  full  of  rocks  and  —  " 

"  What  Laflin  would  like,"  said  Hope, 
"  would  be  for  someone  to  let  him  build  a 
house  on  top  of  a  telegraph  pole,  to  be  reached 
by  an  escalator  or  an  airship!  " 

"No!"  cried  Jermyn,  "that  wouldn't  be 
sufficiently  artistic.  He  wants  to  build  a  castle 
on  a  rock  in  mid  ocean,  to  be  reached  by  all 
sailing  craft  and  ocean  liners.  It  could  be 
rigged  out  with  wireless,  and  supplies  could 
be  fetched  by  balloons." 

"  Nonsense!  "  said  Laflin.  "  You  make  me 
out  a  crazy  fool!  I  hope  Miss  Levering  does 
not  believe  you! " 

The  young  man,  who  was  handsome  beyond 
most  men,  turned  and  looked  at  the  dainty 
creature  at  his  side,  and  I  heard  Bee's  invis 
ible  plumage  rustle. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  my  sister  slowly,  "  how 
much  of  this  —  '  she  paused  and  looked  di 
rectly  at  Laflin  and  Amy  Levering,  "  nonsense 
I  am  to  believe!  I  wonder  if  I  have  really 
found  at  last  —  "  (Her  delicate  emphasis 


Napoleonic  Strategy  1 21 

would  seem  to  indicate  that  she  had  searched 
with,  oh,  such  weariness !  over  half  the  world 
and  for  many  a  long  and  tee-jous  year!)  "  an 
architect  with  sufficient  soul  and  imagination 
to  appreciate  the  possibilities  of  a  piece  of 
property  so  odd  and  artistic  that  I  have  hith 
erto  been  actually  afraid  to  spoil  things  by 
planning  to  utilize  its  odd  beauty  instead  of 
subduing  it  by  a  modern  and  conventional 
building!" 

No  less  than  ten  pairs  of  bewildered  eyes 
were  fastened  upon  my  sister  as  she  grace 
fully  delivered  this  amazing  speech.  Sallie 
and  Norman  Fitzhugh  in  surprise;  Jimmie 
and  I  in  silent  delight,  but  poor  Laflin  Van 
Tassel  in  the  fascinated  unbelief  of  one  who 
fears  his  ears  are  deceiving  him.  He  knew 
Bee's  reputation  for  being  a  widow  with 
abundant  means,  and  in  the  ardour  of  his  pro 
fessional  zeal,  he  visibly  detached  himself 
from  the  girl  at  his  side  and  edged  nearer  to 
my  sister. 

"  The  main  feature  of  the  property,"  Bee 
went  on,  "  is  a  huge  gray  rock,  which  juts 
out  into  the  Sound.  I  want  the  house  built 
on  that.  There  is  a  sheer  drop  of  two  hundred 
feet  to  the  sea  below.  On  one  side,  some 
straight  pines  grow  on  the  slope  below,  so  that 
a  veranda  built  there  would  let  those  trees  up 


122    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

through  its  floor.  On  the  land  side,  the 
ground  is  as  flat  as  my  hand,  so  that  I  could 
have  a  garden  full  of  old  fashioned  flowers." 
(I  stole  a  look  at  Aubrey  just  here,  remem 
bering  Bee's  education  from  Lady  Mary  and 
Sir  Wemyss  Lombard  at  Peach  Orchard,  and 
the  Angel  winked  at  me  solemnly.)  "  But, 
unless,  Mr.  Van  Tassel,  you  could  be  in  sym 
pathy  with  such  an  idea,  I  fear  my  dream  will 
never  be  realized." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  —  er  —  " 

"  Lathrop,"  said  Bee,  gently,  but  secretly 
wild  because  he  had  not  remembered  her 
name. 

"Pardon  me!  Mrs.  Lathrop,"  stammered 
the  young  architect.  "If  you  would  honour 
me  by  entrusting  such  a  glorious  opportunity 
to  me,  I  would  be  —  I  would  enjoy  simply 
drawing  up  the  plans  of  such  a  place,  whether 
you  ever  accepted  them  or  not." 

"  Oh,  but,"  said  Bee,  smiling  at  him  slowly, 
"  if  you  drew  them  up,  as  I  am  sure  you  could, 
from  all  I  have  heard  to-day,  I  would  build 
and  count  myself  fortunate  indeed  to  secure 
such  an  architect." 

"  You  just  bet  she  would,"  murmured  Jim- 
mie  in  my  ear.  "  Isn't  Bee  a  wonder !  Good 
old  Bee !  " 

"How  large  is  the  place?"  asked  Laflin, 


Napoleonic  Strategy  123 

eagerly.  In  his  preoccupation  he  turned  a 
little  more  from  Amy  Levering-.  But  my  sis 
ter  is  never  rude  unless  she  wishes  to  put  some 
upstart  in  his  or  her  place,  so  she  turned  grace 
fully  to  the  girl  and  said  : 

"  I'm  afraid  all  this  is  rather  a  bore  to  the 
young  people,  isn't  it,  Miss  Levering?" 

"  Oh,  no !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  smiling  re- 
sponsively.  "  I  am  always  interested  in  any 
thing  which  tends  to  make  my  own  country 
as  beautiful  as  the  places  abroad." 

Bee  moved  slightly  and  Amy  came  and  sat 
beside  her,  whereat  Laflin  frankly  planted 
himself  in  front  of  the  two  and  plunged  into 
the  subject  afresh. 

"  I'm  sure  Miss  Levering  means  what  she 
says,"  said  Laflin  eagerly.  "  She  is  very  sin 
cere."  He  turned  and  smiled  at  the  girl  in 
a  way  which  was  not  lost  upon  Bee.  "  How 
many  acres  are  in  your  property,  Mrs.  —  " 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  said  Bee  vaguely,  "  nor 
could  I  give  you  its  exact  location.  I  only 
know  that  it  is  miles  from  a  single  habitation. 
There  one  could  be  absolutely  alone  with  na 
ture.  And  such  nature!  But  if  you  are  really 
interested  —  if  you  think  you  would  care  to 
investigate  and  see  if  I  have  overestimated  its 
possibilities,  why,  I  will  look  the  matter  up  and 
arrange  —  " 


124  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Arrange  for  me  to  go  with  you  some  day 
and  see  it  ?  Could  you  do  that,  Mrs.  —  er  —  " 

"  Lathrop!  "  prompted  Bee  with  an  expres 
sion  in  her  eyes  which  would  have  warned 
anybody  but  a  fool  or  a  man  that  his  interest 
in  the  proposition  over  the  subject  of  the  lady 
was  not  exactly  making  a  hit  with  her. 

'"  We  might  go  in  my  motor,"  pursued  Laf- 
lin.  "  You  say  the  rock  juts  out  into  the  sea? 
You  could  have  two  distinct  effects  —  one  by 
sea  and  one  by  land.  I  think  —  "  his  eyes 
took  on  a  faraway  look  and  for  a  moment  we 
all  knew  that  we  were  forgotten. 

But  Bee  was  clever  enough  to  be  distinctly 
pleased.  It  was  sufficient  triumph  for  her  so 
to  have  aroused  his  professional  interest.  She 
felt  that  the  personal  would  come  later. 

As  she  glanced  at  me,  she  gave  me  a  look 
which  meant : 

"  Crude  material,  but  capable  of  being 
moulded.  Decidedly  worth  while." 

This  message  was  so  distinct  that  I  absent- 
mindedly  answered  aloud. 

"So  it  is!" 

At  which  she  frowned  in  reproof. 

I  looked  to  see  if  Miss  Levering  seemed  to 
object  to  the  way  things  had  gone,  but  she  was 
frankly  enjoying  a  little  talk  with  Hope  and 
Cedric  Hamilton,  who  were  sitting  just  be- 


Napoleonic  Strategy  125 

yond  and  feeding  her  with  strawberries, 
grown  on  the  Coolmeath  estate,  and  too  deli 
cious  for  mere  words  to  describe. 

I  was  glad  to  see  by  her  sincerity  that  Miss 
Levering  did  not  resent  her  cavalier's  present 
defection,  nor  the  possible  desertion  it  por 
tended.  Evidently,  thought  I,  the  devotion,  as 
yet,  is  entirely  on  his  side. 

This  idea  must  also  have  been  in  Bee's  mind, 
because  I  saw  her  studying  the  every  move 
and  glance  of  the  young  people. 

I  will  say  this  for  my  sister.  She  might 
condescend  to  shift  emotional  scenery  or  de 
flect  mental  currents,  but  she  is  no  robber  — 
"  Bee  is  no  body-snatcher  "  was  the  way  Jim- 
mie  agreed  with  me,  when  I  tried  to  get  the 
idea  delicately  into  his  ribald  mind.  She 
wouldn't  have  hurt  Amy  Levering's  feelings 
for  the  world.  Evidently,  however,  she  came 
to  the  same  conclusion  that  I  did,  for  she  pro 
ceeded  to  retire  —  mentally,  of  course,  fur 
ther  and  further  from  the  company  and  more 
and  more  into  her  captivating  personality,  and 
for  each  step  she  receded,  Laflin  took  one  in 
advance,  until,  when  the  company  broke  up, 
they  seemed  to  be  doing  nicely,  thanks. 

It  was  only  Sallie  Fitzhugh  who  allowed 
herself  a  sly  dig  at  Bee,  for  her  sudden  change 
of  front. 


126  The   Concentrations    of  Bee 

"  I  am  a  little  surprised  at  you,  Bee.  I 
understood  you  to  say  that  for  me  to  try  to 
be  original  would  only  end  in  my  being  queer. 
Doesn't  that  remark  also  apply  to  you  ?  " 

Bee  smiled,  but  I,  who  knew  her,  realized 
that  she  was  uncomfortable.  Still  she  had 
counted  the  cost  before  she  cast  her  die.  She 
had  been  suddenly  called  upon  to  choose  be 
tween  going  flatly  back  on  a  statement  of  opin 
ion  which  we  all  knew  was  sincere,  and  the 
unexpected  opportunity  of  nailing  Laflin  Van 
Tassel's  millionaire  attention  by  one  bold 
stroke,  which  might  sacrifice  the  good  opinion 
of  a  dozen  friends,  but  which  kept  to  the  main 
issue  and  could  scarcely  fail  to  make  good. 

Trust  our  Bee  to  know  her  way  about.  She 
chose,  as  usual,  unerringly.  Friends  were 
very  well  in  their  way,  but  one  doesn't  every 
day  find  a  young  and  handsome  millionaire 
of  excellent  family,  roaming  over  the  plains, 
simply  waiting  to  be  roped,  tied  and  branded. 
So  the  friends  who  were  sacrificed,  were  wit 
ness  to  the  branding,  and  dispersed,  entertain 
ing  high  hopes  of  also  seeing  the  widow  "  gen 
tle  "  her  new  property  in  the  most  approved 
plains  fashion. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Norman  Fitzhugh  slyly, 
"  Mrs.  Lathrop  forgot  to  cross  her  fingers  this 
time!" 


Napoleonic  Strategy  127 

There  was  nothing  malicious  in  these  re 
marks,  for  both  Norman  and  Sallie  were  of 
Bee's  kind  and  played  the  game  according  to 
the  same  rules,  but  I  know  now,  that  they 
then  and  there  tacitly  accepted  Bee  as  a  cousin, 
and  from  that  moment  realized  that  Laflin 
Van  Tassel's  fate  was  sealed.  In  fact,  Laflin 
became  engaged  to  my  sister  in  that  very  hour, 
although  he  himself  did  not  know  it  then. 
Bee  saved  the  knowledge  to  surprise  him  with. 

From  Bee's  preoccupation  on  the  way  home, 
I  knew  something  was  bearing  unusually  hard 
upon  her  mind,  so  I  left  her  to  wrestle  with 
her  problem  alone,  as  I  knew  she  wished,  cer 
tain  that  she  would  tell  me  when  she  got 
ready  or  when  she  had  a  use  for  my  help. 

And  thus  it  turned  out,  for  the  next  time 
I  went  to  see  her,  I  saw  by  her  determined 
aspect  that  her  plans  were  formed  and  I  sus 
pected  that  I  had  arrived  upon  the  eve  of 
battle. 

"  Will  you  kindly  tell  me,"  I  said  with  a 
fine  sarcasm  which  was  quite  wasted  upon  her, 
as  most  family  sarcasm  is,  "  where  this  won 
derful  piece  of  property  is  situated  ?  Likewise 
where  you  expect  to  get  the  money  to  build 
your  wonder-house  with?  Also  what  under 
the  shining  sun  you  would  do  with  such  a 
place  if  you  had  it  —  you,  whose  idea  of  a 


128  The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

suitable  site  for  a  country  place,  sufficiently 
isolated  to  suit  your  social  and  sociable  needs, 
is  a  corner  similar  to  those  at  42nd  Street  and 
Broadway?  " 

"  Did  you  know,"  was  Bee's  lucid  and  ir 
relevant  reply  to  these  spirited  questions, 
"  that  Bob  has  got  a  job  with  Sysonby  and 
Arsenal? " 

"  No,  I  didn't.  Who  are  they?  And  what's 
that  got  to  do  with  my  impassioned  re 
marks  ?  " 

Bee  lifted  her  head  and  listened.  A  triple 
knock  sounded  at  her  door. 

"That's  Lyddy!"  she  whispered.  "Go  in 
there  and  don't  make  a  sound,  as  you  value 
your  life!  They  are  building  contractors! 
Don't  you  see?  " 

She  pushed  me  into  her  bedroom  so  hastily 
that  I  had  no  choice.  I  found  myself  sitting 
on  her  bed  and  forced  to  listen,  whether  I 
wanted  to  or  not,  because  the  door  was 
open. 

I  didn't  mind  listening,  I  am  free  to  state,  for 
I  was  desperately  curious. 

"  Bee,"  said  Lyddy.  "  I  want  to  ask  you 
what  you  know  about  Bob  Mygatt's  engage 
ment?  In  the  first  place,  is  he  engaged?  " 

"  Always !  "  said  Bee  smiling.  "  Either  in 
something  questionable  or  in  marriage!" 


Napoleonic  Strategy  129 

"  Humph !  "  said  Lyddy.  "  One  means  the 
other  generally,  if  you  ask  my  opinion.  Is 
he  engaged  to  that  girl,  really?" 

"  He  says  he  is,"  said  Bee.    "  Why?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing.     I  only  wanted  to  know." 

"  She  is  desperately  poor,  and  it  is,  in  my 
opinion,  a  most  unsuitable  match  —  one  which 
if  it  takes  place,  will  breed  constant  trouble  and 
end  in  a  smash-up." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so?  "  asked  Lyddy 
hopefully. 

"  Because  Bob  is  a  born  rascal  —  a  fas 
cinating,  lovable  rascal,  who  needs  a  rich 
wife,  one  who  knows  the  world  and  who  won't 
be  too  hard  on  him,  and  not  a  raw  young  girl 
with  impossible  ideals  and  a  Puritan  con 
science.  Bob  hates  poverty.  He  hates  to  be 
good.  It  looks  to  me  as  if  he  were  held  only 
by  her  beauty." 

"If  that  is  true,"  said  Lyddy  slowly, 
"  something  might  happen  to  break  it  off." 

"  It  might,"  admitted  Bee  cautiously,  "  if 
he  doesn't  marry  her  suddenly,  before  any 
thing  could  be  done,  and  show  up  some  day 
with  a  wife  hanging  on  his  arm.  It  would  be 
just  like  him." 

Lyddy  moaned.     But  Bee  took  no  notice. 

"  I  like  the  boy  so  well,"  said  Bee,  "  that 
I've  often  thought  I'd  like  to  take  a  hand  in 


130  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

rescuing  him  from  a  painful  entanglement. 
I'm  sure  he  would  be  grateful  to  me." 

Lyddy  moved.     I  could  hear  her. 

"  Bee,"  she  said.  "  Bob  is  very  fond  of 
you.  He  would  do  almost  anything  you  ad 
vised." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Bee,  "  I  wouldn't  take  the 
initiative  for  anything  in  the  world!  Sup 
pose  I  could  break  it  off  and  he  should  be  un 
happy.  Think  how  he  could  blame  me !  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  Lyddy  hastily,  "  you 
couldn't  show  your  hand,  but  - 

"  No,"  said  Bee  firmly.  "  I  certainly 
couldn't.  And  wouldn't." 

There  was  silence  after  this.  I  could  hear 
Bee  moving  around.  It  sounded  as  if  she  were 
dusting  things  on  the  mantel. 

"  Well,  what  would  you  advise  ?  "  asked 
Lyddy  with  evident  difficulty. 

"  Advise  whom?  Bob?  "  asked  Bee.  "  Or 
Ava?  Why  should  I  advise  either  of  them? 
They  haven't  asked  my  advice  and  I  certainly 
wouldn't  be  so  officious  as  to  volunteer  it." 

"  Advise  me !  "  bellowed  Lyddy,  in  a  sud 
den  burst  of  self-surrender.  "  You  know 
about  these  things!  I  don't!  But  I  want 
Bob!  Help  me,  Bee,  and  I'll  —  I'll  do  any 
thing  for  you !  " 

"Will  you  sell  the  Kokomo  land?"  asked 


Napoleonic  Strategy  131 

Bee,  quickly.  "  You've  promised  to,  but 
you've  never  done  it." 

"  Yes,  I  will !  If  you  will  help  me  to  get 
him  away  from  her,  I'll  place  that  land  on  the 
market." 

"  When  ?  "  asked  Bee,  suspicious  of  Lyddy's 
crafty  pause. 

"The  day  I  marry  Bob  Mygatt!"  said 
Lyddy. 

Bee's  beaten  silence  was  sufficient  evidence 
of  her  chagrin.  Such  a  tract  of  land  might 
take  ten  years  to  dispose  of,  and  they  both 
knew  it.  It  shows  my  sister's  self-control  that 
she  held  her  tongue,  and  gave  no  hint  of  her 
set  back. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Bee  carelessly.  "I  will 
think  it  over.  Possibly  I  couldn't  do  any 
thing  anyway.  Bob  is  busy  rehearsing  Ava 
for  her  part  in  his  play  and  he  is  crazy  over 
her  just  at  present,  on  account  of  her  voice, 
which  is  wonderful.  They  may  be  married 
now  for  all  we  know !  " 

Lyddy  fairly  howled  in  her  middle-aged 
agony. 

"  Don't  do  that,  Lyddy!  "  said  Bee.  "  I'll 
think  it  over  and  let  you  know.  I  must  go 
now.  I  want  to  talk  to  my  sister  about 
making  up  a  party  to  go  up  to  Bob's  premiere 
in  New  Haven." 


132  The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

"Who  is  making  it  up?"  asked  Lyddy 
quickly. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  has  been  decided  just 
how  we  shall  go,"  said  Bee  slowly.  "  Faith 
is  sure  to  see  that  /  am  included,  no  matter 
whose  party  she  and  Aubrey  join." 

"She'd  ask  me  too,  wouldn't  she?"  de 
manded  Lyddy. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  my  sister.  "  Are  you 
and  Faith  on  any  better  terms  than  you  were 
when  you  deliberately  made  noises  so  that 
Aubrey  couldn't  write,  when  they  visited 
me?" 

"  I  wish  I  hadn't  —  now !  "  said  Lyddy, 
honestly.  "  Say,  Bee,  if  there's  any  danger 
of  my  not  being  asked,  why  couldn't  you  and 
I  make  up  the  party  and  divide  expenses  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  my  sister  evenly,  "  I  see 
no  particular  reason  for  such  an  unnecessary 
outlay  on  my  part." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Lyddy,  swallowing  vio 
lently.  "I  will  make  up  the  party  and  invite 
you  all !  " 

"  That  will  be  very  nice.  Do  you  want  me 
to  tell  them?" 

:'  Yes,  please  do.  And  Bee  —  please  make 
all  the  arrangements.  I'll  foot  the  bills." 

I  nearly  choked  at  the  complacent  manner 
in  which  Bee  cleared  her  throat. 


Napoleonic  Strategy  133 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Bee,  "  I  must  go.  Will 
you  excuse  me,  Lyddy  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't,"  snapped  Lyddy,  "  till  we've 
come  to  some  understanding.  I've  got  to  be 
helped  now.  I  can't  wait.  Even  now  it  may 
be  too  late.  I'm  willing  to  —  to  do  anything 
you  say,  if  you'll  only  help  me.  Will  you? 
I'm  willing  to  do  anything  in  the  world !  " 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  my  sister,  with  graceful 
deliberation,  "  that  your  idea  and  mine  as  to 
what  that  phrase  '  anything  in  the  world ' 
means,  might  differ." 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Lyddy 
promptly.  "  You  mean  that  I'm  stingy. 
Well,  perhaps  I  am.  You  always  said  James 
was.  And  I'm  like  him.  Still  in  this  case, 
I'll  do  what  I  never  did  before.  I'll  pour  out 
money  as  freely  as  those  foolish  Jardines,  who 
always  spend  their  money  before  they  get  it 
and  act  like  the  millionaires  everybody  knows 
they  ain't !  " 

The  objectionable  accuracy  of  this  descrip 
tion  did  not  make  the  hit  with  me  that  it  did 
with  my  sister.  I  could  see  Bee's  shoulders 
shake. 

"  I'll  take  you  all  up  to  New  Haven  in 
limousines  and  I'll  give  you  a  supper  after  the 
play,"  continued  Lyddy.  "  What's  the  mat 
ter?" 


134    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Lyddy,"  said  Bee,  swiftly,  "  you  invite 
Ava  and  Bob  both  to  that  supper,  do  you 
hear?" 

Lyddy  evidently  hesitated  a  little  at  that, 
but  she  recollected  herself  in  time  and  said : 

"  All  right.     If  you  say  so." 

"  Now,  Lyddy,"  said  Bee,  "  suppose  things 
really  turned  out  as  you  wish.  What  would 
you  do  for  me?  " 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  asked 
Lyddy,  who  was  nobody's  fool.  "  You 
know  —  " 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Bee.  "  In  twenty  years 
from  now,  the  Kokomo  land  may  still  be  un 
sold.  I  want  an  allowance  now.  I  also  want 
you  to  give  me  fifty  acres  of  land,  and  money 
enough  to  build  a  handsome  house  on  it. 
Then  I  want  money  enough  to  run  the  house 
after  it  is  built.  You  can  deduct  every  cent 
of  it  from  my  share  of  the  proceeds  of  the  land 
when  it  is  sold." 

Lyddy,  who  had  evidently  figured  on  giving 
Bee  a  new  fan  or  a  few  ice  cream  sodas  as 
a  just  remuneration  for  her  efforts,  nearly 
swooned  at  the  calmness  of  my  sister's  de 
mands. 

"  What  ?  "  she  roared.     "  What  ?  " 

"  Now  don't  go  into  one  of  your  awful 
rages,"  said  Bee  quickly,  "  for  unless  you  do 


Napoleonic  Strategy  135 

just  that,  I  wash  my  hands  of  your  entire 
affair  and  what  you  can't  do  for  yourself  will 
go  undone." 

"  But  you've  asked  for  a  fortune,"  cried 
Lyddy. 

"  I've  asked  for  less  than  what  would  have 
been  my  widow's  third  of  my  husband's  prop 
erty  before  you  and  he  plotted  to  keep  me  out 
of  it  by  his  giving  you  all  the  revenue  produc 
ing  bulk  of  the  estate  before  he  died,"  said 
Bee  quietly.  "  Now,  you  will  seem  to  have 
seen  the  iniquity  of  that  plan,  and  will  have 
given  me,  of  your  own  free  will  and  accord, 
what  was  justly  mine  by  right." 

"  I  won't  do  it,"  said  Lyddy. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Bee.  "  Then  I'm  going. 
Good-bye." 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Lyddy.  "  Where  — 
where  is  this  fifty  acres  you  want  ?  " 

"  It's  the  old  Van  Dam  estate  on  Long 
Island." 

Lyddy  stirred  with  quick  suspicion. 

"  Do  you  propose  to  sell  it  to  the  govern 
ment  for  a  lighthouse  ?  Have  you  heard  of  an 
offer?" 

"  No !  No !  Is  your  mind  all  mercenary, 
Lyddy?  I  want  to  build  a  house  on  it !  " 

"  On  that  rock  ?  Well  —  you  can  have  it. 
I  never  wanted  it  anyway." 


136   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  And  will  you  lend  me  —  say  —  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars  ?  " 

"  A  hundred  thou—  " 

"All  right!  I  don't  care.  Let's  drop  the 
subject." 

"  No !  no !  Don't  let's  drop  it.  I'll  lend  it 
to  you." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Bee.  "  You  have  the 
deed  made  out.  You  give  me  the  fifty  acres. 
You  lend  me  the  money.  Do  you  under 
stand?" 

"  Yes,  I  understand.  But  suppose  —  sup 
pose - 

"  Stop,"  said  Bee.  "  I  make  no  promises 
as  to  what  I  will  do.  But  the  first  part  of  my 
plan  is  this.  I  propose  to  build  immediately. 
Bob  has  a  little  hundred-dollar-a-month  job 
with  Sysonby  &  Arsenal,  and  he  stays  away 
from  the  office  so  much  on  account  of  his 
play  that  he  is  liable  to  lose  his  position  any 
day.  Now,  it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to 
say  anything  if  he  brought  them  a  contract  to 
build  my  house  for  me,  —  to  say  nothing  of 
giving  me  innumerable  opportunities  to  ask 
him  here  on  —  business !  " 

Lyddy  seldom  makes  a  demonstration,  and 
when  she  does  it  is  liable  to  be  unpleasant. 

As  in  this  instance.  For  she  walked  over 
to  Bee  and  kissed  her. 


Napoleonic  Strategy  137 

'  The  money,"  she  said,  "  will  be  in  your 
bank  before  three  o'clock  to-day." 

I  had  been  sitting  on  the  bed,  but  at  that  I 
fell  over. 


CHAPTER    IX 

DEVELOPMENTS 

TIME  passed  on  and,  thanks  to  Mun- 
son's  custom  of  telling  his  private 
affairs  to  the  world  at  large,  every 
body  knew  that  things  were  rapidly  growing 
worse  with  him.  Neither  he  nor  Eleanor 
had  got  a  single  commission  for  over  a  year; 
they  had  no  luck  at  exhibitions;  they  only 
took  silver  medals  when  they  assured  us  they 
would  have  taken  gold,  had  not  the  pull  of 
other  artists  with  the  Committee  of  Awards 
been  so  strong,  and  the  only  thing  they  had 
to  live  on  was  the  rent  from  our  apartment. 

Of  course  that  would  have  been  enough,  had 
the  Munsons  been  ordinary  people,  but  being 
artists  and  a  particularly  wild  species  at  that, 
they  had  sunk  the  entire  proceeds  of  their  last 
big  commission  of  two  years  before  in  a  stock- 
farm  in  the  most  expensive  part  of  Long 
Island,  where  they  chose,  as  an  innocent 
pastime,  the  raising  of  Arabian  horses. 

Why  Long  Island,  when  even  millionaires 
138 


Developments  139 

put  stock-farms  over  in  cheaper  Jersey,  no 
one  could  tell.  Even  the  Munsons  themselves 
had  no  answer  to  that  question,  but  then  the 
Munsons  had  no  adequate  answer  to  any  ques 
tion  of  expediency. 

Arabian  horses  are  doubtless  very  beautiful, 
and  their  breeding  interesting,  but  not  to  the 
general  run  of  the  public,  who  prefer  auto 
mobiles,  yachts  or  private  cars  for  luxuries. 
But  it  was  exquisitely  like  the  Munsons  to 
prefer  Arabians,  and  to  stick  to  them  in  the 
face  of  advice,  pleading  and  acrimonious  com 
ment.  Just  as  it  was  their  habit  to  look  upon 
a  palace  in  Algiers  with  an  American  pianola 
and  no  other  furniture  as  a  normal  investment 
of  their  first  large  batch  of  money,  and  against 
which  idea  they  would  listen  to  no  criticism  and 
whose  inhabiting  for  seven  years  while  the 
world  promptly  forgot  them,  they  persisted 
in  regarding  as  natural  and  rational. 

However,  when  all  their  money  went  for 
things  like  these  and  they  were  staggering 
under  a  burden  of  debt,  and  our  rent  went 
into  the  voracious  mouths  of  blooded  horses, 
leaving  them  with  nothing  for  their  rent  or 
food  or  clothes,  it  came  hard  on  their  friends 
to  be  passionately  called  upon  to  understand, 
sympathize  and  rage  Over  their  self-inflicted 
predicament. 


140   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Such,  however,  was  the  state  of  the  case. 
Munson's  tall  figure  drooped  still  lower  and  his 
short,  pointed  beard  was  twisted  more  tightly 
than  usual  by  his  nervous,  agitated  fingers. 

Nevertheless,  it  gave  him  a  sort  of  sad  com 
fort  to  talk  about  it,  and  talk  about  it  he  did 
to  every  man,  woman  and  child  who  would 
listen.  When  the  interesting  season  arrived, 
Munson  developed  into  a  sort  of  agitated, 
vicarious  midwife  —  for  Munson  never  did 
any  real  work  of  a  domestic  character  no  mat 
ter  how  urgent  the  need  —  and  his  conversa 
tion  was  embellished  with  obstetrical  efforts 
which  often  sent  some  of  his  more  sensitive 
listeners  from  the  room,  not  blushingly,  for 
Munson's  conversation  never  verged  on  the 
vulgar  or  too  plainly  spoken.  Surely  no  one 
in  the  world  could  converse  on  indelicate  sub 
jects  with  the  delicacy  of  Munson.  It  was 
only  that  certain  of  his  listeners  objected  to 
his  selection  of  topics.  But  quite  regardless 
of  mental  objections,  as  long  as  his  ears  were 
unaffronted  by  verbal  protests,  Munson's 
charmingly  rounded  sentences,  exquisitely  ex 
pressed,  purled  from  his  lips  in  a  stream  which 
there  was  no  checking  and  no  damming  —  ex 
cept  mentally,  as  Aubrey  observed. 

Munson  got  no  sympathy  from  the  Keeps 
nor  the  Jimmies  nor  Bee  nor  Aubrey.  They 


Developments  141 

listened  politely,  that  was  all.  But  I,  who  came 
wholly  under  the  charm  of  his  delicious  verbal 
isms,  was  also  a  believing  sympathizer,  and 
when  he  sat  down  with  me  quietly  to  tell  me, 
confidentially,  the  worst  of  it,  I  was  like  to  get 
no  sleep  that  night. 

I  knew  that  the  real  cause  of  my  disquiet 
would  only  arouse  Aubrey's  ire,  for  he  ob 
jects  to  either  man  or  woman  deliberately 
preying  upon  quick  sympathies,  so  I  set  myself 
privately  to  get  Munson  a  commission. 

After  many  letters  and  much  secret  anxiety, 
I  finally  got,  through  a  personal  friend,  the 
order  for  a  magazine  cover.  Munson  made 
it,  took  it  down  in  person,  perfectly  charmed 
the  editor  by  an  hour's  conversation,  and  came 
home  grinning.  He  felt  that  he  had  struck  his 
gait  at  last.  He  at  once  made  six  others,  very 
ugly  but  classic,  and  peddled  them  assiduously, 
meeting  with  rebuffs,  rudeness  and  verbal  in 
sults  from  art  editors,  all  of  which  was  grist 
for  his  conversational  mill  and  with  accounts 
of  whose  ignorance  he  convulsed  each  of 
his  friends  in  turn,  until  he  had  been  the 
rounds. 

So  again  I  took  up  the  struggle  to  get  him 
personal  interviews  with  my  personal  friends. 
But  his  indifference  by  this  time  was  such  that 
he  refused  even  to  wrap  and  cord  the  pictures 


142   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

for  the  expressman,  saying  that  I  could  do  it 
if  I  had  faith  enough.  Yet  still  he  was  tor 
turing  me  with  descriptions  of  his  duns  and 
the  rude  insistence  of  his  creditors.  Then  he 
further  worked  upon  my  susceptibilities  by  de 
scriptions  of  the  sufferings  of  his  horses  — 
especially  of  the  newly  made  mothers  —  of 
hunger,  because  his  feed  man  had  cut  off  his 
supplies.  Eleanor  has  since  repudiated  every 
one  of  these  stories,  and  has  branded  them  as 
deliberate  fabrications,  but  I  believed  them 
absolutely  at  the  time. 

Then  there  was  trouble  about  the  payment 
for  the  one  cover  design  which  had  been  ac 
cepted.  I  telephoned  two  or  three  times  and 
finally  wrote.  I  got  a  reply  saying  that  a 
cheque  had  been  duly  sent  on  such  and  such  a 
date.  I  told  the  Munsons.  Neither  looked 
up  from  his  work. 

"  Oh,"  said  Munson,  looking  at  his  picture 
in  a  hand-glass,  "  that  was  last  Saturday,  the 
day  Eleanor  tore  up  all  the  mail  without  open 
ing  any  of  it."- 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Munson,  shutting  one 
eye  to  get  a  better  perspective  of  a  study  she 
was  making  for  a  portrait,  which  she  hoped 
to  get,  "  whenever  things  look  like  advertise 
ments  or  duns,  I  never  open  them.  I  just 
destroy  them.  I  tore  everything  up  Satur- 


Developments  143 

day.  I  must  have  torn  the  cheque  up  without 
opening  the  envelope." 

Now  to  me  a  cheque  is  a  holy  thing-  —  to 
be  approached  reverently  with  clean  hands  and 
a  pure  heart,  and  for  these  impecunious  artists 
thus  to  explain  the  destruction  of  one  capable 
of  a  month's  keep,  was  to  me  something  un 
pleasantly  uncanny. 

Any  strong  emotion  always  goes  to  my 
knees  and  makes  them  weak.  I  stumbled  as 
I  made  my  way  to  a  rocking  chair  in  my  own 
apartment.  But  the  Munsons  never  even 
looked  up  from  their  work. 

It  took  me  two  weeks  to  get  a  second  cheque 
without  telling  the  real  truth  about  the  first. 

Then  came  a  rare  opportunity.  Aubrey's 
manager  Einstein  was  dining  with  us  one 
night,  and  greatly  admired  some  small  studies 
Munson  was  making  of  "  The  Idylls  of  the 
King,"  for  which  he  hoped  to  get  an  order. 
The  indefatigable  way  both  the  Munsons 
worked  on  studies  for  hoped-for  commissions 
aroused  Aubrey's  wildest  enthusiasm  —  Au 
brey  who  always  worked  to  order  only,  and 
whose  only  trouble  lay  in  pleasing  his  man 
agers  ! 

Einstein  offered  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  if  Munson  would  fit  them  to  the  hall 
spaces  in  the  new  house  he  was  building  in 


144  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Staten  Island.  In  great  glee,  I  told  Munson. 
He  demanded  three  thousand.  I  submitted 
this  price  to  Einstein,  who  came  up  to  a  thou 
sand,  frankly  stating  that  this  sum  was  the 
limit. 

When  I  told  Munson,  he  turned  and  wrote 
for  a  few  minutes  at  Eleanor's  little  desk. 

"  There!  "  he  said.  "  I  wanted  to  put  it  in 
writing  so  that  he  could  get  the  full  force  of 
it.  Just  send  it  to  him,  will  you,  as  my  ulti 
matum?" 

I  took  the  paper  and  read,  — 

"  DEAR  MRS.  JARDINE,  - 
'  The  paltry  offer  of  your  friend  to  take 
three  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  work  for  one 
thousand  is  to  me  no  more  than  a  momentary 
amusement.  Kindly  advise  him  to  utilize  Lin- 
crusta  Walton  as  a  decoration  more  in  keep 
ing  with  his  modest  purse. 

"  Very  truly  yours, 

"  EDWARD  MUNSON/' 

Munson  is  especially  proud  of  his  prowess 
in  letter-writing,  and,  truth  to  tell,  his  letters 
are  always  pungent  and  bitter.  That  is  how 
he  makes  so  many  enemies.  No  one  could 
make  as  many  enemies  as  Munson,  by  verbal 
isms  only,  but  he  sits  up  at  night  getting  his 


Developments  145 

waspishness  into  epigrammatic  form,  and  gen 
erally  has  one  or  two  sample  letters  in  his 
pockets,  so  that  in  the  ferry  or  train,  if  you 
meet  him,  you  can  always  count  on  hearing 
the  latest  specimens  wrhich,  to  be  fair  to  Mun- 
son,  are  always  well  worth  listening  to,  if  only 
to  know  what  to  avoid,  unless  you  actually 
crave  the  hatred  of  your  fellow  men. 

I  remember  vividly  my  sensation  as  I  stood 
with  that  paper  in  my  hand  and  realized  that 
Munson  and  Eleanor  had  not  had  a  single 
commission  in  over  a  year,  and  that  these 
very  pictures  he  was  then  painting  on  would 
stand  in  all  probability  with  their  faces  to  the 
wall  for  perhaps  a  year  or  two  more.  Yet  he 
had  deliberately  thrown  away  a  thousand  dol 
lars  in  cash. 

As  I  stood  there  wondering  if  Eleanor 
would  not  interfere  with  a  word  of  remon 
strance,  Munson  rose  up  with  his  usual  pre 
cipitancy,  which  generally  upset  something  in 
his  vicinity,  and  I  thought  he  had  changed 
his  mind.  But  he  had  only  risen  for  the  pur 
pose  of  turning  his  picture  upside  down,  the 
better  to  paint  his  horse's  hoofs. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  knock  on  the  door 
of  their  studio. 

Munson  answered  it.  I  heard  voices,  and 
after  a  few  moments  he  returned,  grinning. 


146  The    Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Who  was  it  ?  "  asked  Eleanor. 

Munson  looked  whimsically  at  me. 

"  Dare  I  mention  such  a  fact  before  our 
friend,  Mrs.  Jardine,  whose  ideas  on  moral 
ity  and  finance  are  so  impossibly  high  ?  "  he 
said  with  a  fine  mockery. 

"  Tell  her,"  said  Eleanor  indifferently. 

Munson  twisted  his  thin  beard  into  two 
spirals  like  Michael  Angelo's  Moses. 

"  It  was  Bob  Mygatt's  ex-mistress  and  her 
illegitimate  child,  wishing  to  pose  as  Madonna 
and  Child  for  my  '  Holy  Family,'  "  said  Mun 
son  with  his  derisive  smile. 

In  looking  back  on  that  terrible  moment  of 
illumination  which  followed,  I  think  my  hor 
ror  was  mostly  at  Munson's  evil  enjoyment 
of  the  shock  he  had  caused  me  by  the  whole 
juxtaposition  of  ideas. 

It  never  occurred  to  me  to  doubt  him. 
Dreadful  though  it  was,  it  seemed  to  fit  in 
with  my  unconscious  knowledge  of  the  irre 
sponsible  life  Bob  led. 

My  first  thought  was  of  Ava  Corliss. 

"  Are  you  shocked  ?  "  asked  Eleanor,  smil 
ing. 

"A  —  a  little,"  I  said  with  some  difficulty. 

"  Bob  is  my  cousin,"  said  Munson  calmly. 
"  I  am  not  proud  of  it,  but  the  fact  remains. 
So  I  let  this  poor  creature  pose  for  me  when- 


Developments  1 47 

ever  Bob  has  no  money  for  her.  Which  is 
generally.  Bob  will  marry  for  money  — 
eventually." 

This  time  they  both  smiled. 

Lyddy! 

What  if  this  could  be  true?  What  of  Ava 
Corliss  ? 

"  When  did  it  —  I  mean,  how  old  is  the 
child?"  I  stammered. 

"  About  four  years  old,  —  but  small  for  his 
age,"  smiled  Munson.  "  I  could  use  him  for 
the  infant  "  — 

But  before  he  could  get  the  other  word  out, 
I  had  fled,  and  even  as  I  ran  I  could  hear  them 
laughing  gently  over  my  discomfiture. 

I  found  Bee  just  entering,  and  although  I 
had  not  meant  to  tell  her,  she  got  it  out  of 
me. 

To  my  surprise,  her  eyes  blazed  with  tri 
umph. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  "  it  is  very  dread 
ful,  but  it  is  very  illuminating,  —  don't  you 
think?  And  very  conclusive." 

"  Conclusive  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Very  —  unravelling,  I  mean,"  said  Bee 
vaguely. 

"  I  don't  quite  see  —  "  I  faltered. 

"  Perhaps  not  now,"  said  Bee  smiling. 
"  But  you  will." 


148    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

She  glanced  through  the  open  doors  into  the 
Munsons'  studio. 

"  Not  bricked  up  yet,  I  see,"  she  said. 

"  Oh  don't,  Bee,"  I  moaned,  "  you  give  me 
the  shivers  when  you  talk  like  that.  I  haven't 
taken  a  bit  of  comfort  with  either  of  them 
since  you  warned  me." 

"  And  a  very  good  thing  that  is,"  said  Bee 
firmly.  "  When  you  are  uncomfortable,  you 
are  careful.  When  you  are  at  your  ease,  you 
are  suicidally  reckless  in  the  way  you  mother 
the  afflicted.  Whereas  the  Munsons  wouldn't 
lift  their  finger  to  save  you  from  being  boiled 
alive  in  salad  oil,  for  all  you  do  so  much  for 
them." 

"  Nonsense,"  I  murmured.  "  I  don't  do 
much." 

"Don't  you?"  said  Bee.  "I  know.  Of 
course,  it  is  not  entirely  unselfish  on  your  part, 
for  it  affords  you  exquisite  pleasure  to  work 
to  make  your  friends  more  comfortable  than 
you  found  them,  so  it  is  a  species  of  selfishness 
on  your  part.  Still,  I  can't  help  wishing  that 
you  were  at  work  on  people  I  had  more  con 
fidence  in." 

"  What  makes  you  so  suspicious  of  the  Mun 
sons,  Bee?" 

"  Well,  Monday  I  came  in  while  you  were 
lunching  with  them  —  " 


Developments  1 49 

"  So,  you  see,  they  do  reciprocate  some 
times,  Bee !  " 

"  —  And  none  of  you  could  find  the  tea 
spoons.  Munson  was  drinking  milk  out  of  a 
lemonade  glass  and  he  kept  picking  teaspoons 
out  of  his  milk  every  few  moments." 

"  Oh,  I  remember !  He  had  absent-mind 
edly  poured  his  milk  into  the  spoon-holder !  " 
And  I  laughed  again  at  the  recollection. 

"  Faith,"  said  Bee,  "  you  certainly  are  an 
awful  fool  to  make  a  friend  out  of  a  man  who 
can  be  so  oblivious  to  the  realities  'of  life. 
How  about  that  leak  in  the  wall  of  your  bed 
room  ?  Has  he  attended  to  it  yet  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  So,  all  through  these  storms,  you  have  put 
up  with  water  running  down  the  wall  of  the 
room  you  sleep  in  "  — 

"  Well,  I  am  trying  to  get  him  to  ask  the 
building  committee  to  look  into  it,  and  "  — 

"Trying!"  cried  Bee.  "And  how  about 
your  health  in  the  meantime?  How  about 
your  catching  cold?  There  is  a  green  mould 
on  your  bed-room  wall  an  inch  thick." 

"  Not  now,"  I  interrupted.  "  I  burn  a  little 
gas-stove  there  all  day,  so  by  night  it  has 
dried  off  some." 

"  And  that,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  has 
been  going  on  two  months,"  said  Bee. 


150  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Well,  as  I  said,  I  asked  him  to-day  to 
telephone  Mr.  Dale,  but  "  — 

"But  what?" 

"  Well,  he  asked  me  if  I  thought  '  it  quite 
fair  to  interrupt  a  man  in  business  hours  for 
a  trifle  like  that ! '  " 

Bee  got  up  and  walked  around  in  a  cold, 
ladylike  fury.  She  never  sees  anything  funny 
in  the  utter  incongruity  of  the  Munsons  letting 
me  actually  suffer  for  a  dry  bed-room  when 
they  were  eating  at  my  table  and  sleeping  com 
fortably  on  my  couches  and  accepting  all  sorts 
of  favours  from  Aubrey  and  me,  whereas  I 
obtained  an  exquisite  joy  from  the  whole  pic 
ture.  They  were  unconsciously  painting  their 
mental  and  spiritual  portraits  for  me,  with  the 
sure  touch  of  absolute  finality. 

Finally,  Bee  paused. 

"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  the  Munsons 
and  Bob  Mygatt  are  very  much  alike?  "  she 
said.  "  They  are  absolutely  similar  in  their 
indifference  to  the  ethics  of  things." 

'  The  ethics  of  things,"  I  repeated,  with 
dropped  jaw.  "  Where  did  you  get  that  word, 
Bee?  Somebody  has  been  giving  you  a  few 
spiritual  ideas  you  were  not  born  with.  Last 
year,  you  didn't  know  ethics  from  a  home 
run." 


Developments  151 

Bee  bridled  and  smoothed  her  dress  over  her 
knees. 

"  Let  me  make  a  prediction,"  she  said,  a 
trifle  consciously,  I  thought,  even  then. 

"  Fire  away,"  I  said.  Whereat  Bee  gave 
the  following  two-dollar  entertainment  to  me 
for  absolutely  no  money  at  all. 


CHAPTER    X 

BEE'S  VERSION  OF  THE  VENGEANCE  OF  THE 
EIGHTH 

'  W    AM  going  to  make  a  prediction  which 
possibly  may  surprise  you,"   she  said. 

-*-  "  Bob's  play  will  be  a  failure." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  it  is  built  on  a  lie.  I  don't  believe 
he  wrote  a  word  of  it." 

"  But,  Bee,"  I  cried,  "  where  did  you  get 
such  queer  ideas?  Aren't  millions  of  plays 
built  on  lies,  and  don't  they  succeed  ?  " 

"  Aren't  millions  of  plays  failures  for  no 
apparently  good  reason  ?  "  she  retorted. 

"But  —  but  —  "  I  stammered.  "I  don't 
understand  how  you  —  why  do  you  think  that 
way?  I  never  heard  you  say  anything  like 
that  before.  I  thought  you  - 

"  Listen,"  said  Bee.  "  You  know  I've  been 
through  a  lot  of  litigation  since  I've  been  free, 
and  I  have  had,  between  lawyers  and  business 
men  of  various  types,  quite  a  little  experience 
of  the  way  men  —  some  men  —  treat  a  woman 
who  has  any  money.  My  dear  — 
152 


Vengeance  of  the  Eighth      153 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  it  would  take  weeks  to  go  into  it. 
You  never  heard  of  anything  like  it.  And  the 
tales  I  am  told  of  James'  meanness !  Why,  the 
whole  thing  has  formulated  a  theory  with  me 
that  the  unjailable  offences,  such  as  stealing 
ideas  or  inventions  before  they  are  patented, 
are  punished  here  on  earth,  with  a  severity  and 
remorseless  certainty  that  you  would  hardly 
deal  out  to  your  worst  enemy." 

"  As  how?  "  I  demanded  breathlessly.  I  do 
adore  Bee  when  she  gets  started  on  such  sub 
jects. 

Bee  curled  herself  up  on  the  couch  in  the 
studio,  regardless  of  her  "  blacks,"  and  began: 

"  Have  you  ever  had  occasion  to  wonder 
why  disasters  of  one  sort  or  another,  generally 
of  a  domestic  character,  often  happen  to  ap 
parently  exemplary  men  and  why  others  seem 
to  go  scot-free  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  that  I  have." 

"  Well,  think  and  you'll  soon  see  what  I 
mean.  At  one  time  in  my  life  I  began  to  won 
der  at  these  phenomena.  And  the  more  I 
know  of  people  like  Aubrey  and  Bob  and 
Laflin  Van  Tassel,  the  more  I  am  exercised  at 
the  inability  of  people  to  protect  mental  prop 
erty.  Your  friends  —  men  and  women  you  in 
vite  to  dinner  and  play  bridge  with  —  will  sel- 


154   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

dom  steal  your  jewels,  even  if  they  get  a  good 
chance  (although  I  do  know  some  ladies  who 
say  they  never  leave  thrust  pins  on  the  cush 
ion  or  loose  change  in  the  drawer  of  the  ladies' 
dressing  room  when  they  give  afternoon  recep 
tions),  but  if  you  have  mental  property  by 
which  you  earn  your  living,  it  is  never  safe. 
Ideas  cannot  even  be  copyrighted,  as  authors, 
dramatists  and  brain  workers  know  to  their 
sorrow. 

"  Many  and  many  a  successful  play  has  been 
stolen  bodily  by  the  man  whose  name  is  now 
attached  to  it  with  all  the  honours  of  original 
authorship.  Many  a  novel  filched  from  the 
manuscript  of  a  short  story  read  to  a  friend. 
Many  a  '  gentleman's  agreement '  violated  by 
cousins  or  even  brothers.  James  did  this  sev 
eral  times,  I  have  discovered !  " 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  I  said.  "  James  was 
the  limit,  wasn't  he?  " 

James'  widow  nodded. 

"  Yet  how  simple  a  thing  it  would  have  been 
to  pay  the  inventor  and  stay  honest !  "  she  said. 

"  The  contemplation  of  these  injustices  and 
crimes  used  to  give  me  much  food  for  thought. 
You  know  me.  I  felt  that  such  lawlessness 
deserved  a  punishment  which,  on  the  very  face 
of  it,  could  never  be  administered.  Yet  I  have 
seen  it  proved  over  and  over  again  that  the 


Vengeance  of  the  Eighth      155 

Eighth  Commandment  can  take  care  of  itself. 
I  don't  need  to  sit  up  nights  worrying  for  fear 
those  who  break  it  will  get  away  with  the 
goods  and  go  scot  free  afterward.  My  ob 
servations  during  the  last  few  years  that  I  have 
set  myself  to  watch,  teach  me  that  to  steal  a 
thought  or  an  idea  from  a  helpless  owner  of 
it,  is  about  as  satisfactory  to  the  thief  as  steal 
ing  the  blanket  off  a  small-pox  patient.  If  I 
had  to  choose,  I  would  far,  far  rather  steal 
money  and  only  go  to  jail  for  it,  for  man- 
made  law  is  simple  and  humane  compared  to 
the  ills  which  flow  toward  a  thief  who  is  be 
yond  reach  of  such  law  and  who  must  depend 
upon  detection  and  punishment  by  the  eighth 
commandment  itself." 

I  was  luxuriating  on  a  couch  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room,  and  at  this,  I  rolled  over  in 
delight. 

"Goon,  Bee!  "I  cried. 

Much  encouraged  by  my  interest,  which  was 
flattering,  she  proceeded : 

"  Thou  shalt  not  steal !  Certainly  not !  It 
would  be  foolish  to  steal  anything  that  you 
would  be  caught  in  and  punished  for.  But 
suppose  —  just  suppose  a  fortune  could  be 
made  by  the  appropriating  of  a  small,  insignif 
icant  idea! 

"What  is  an  idea?     What  is  a  promise? 


156   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

What  is  a  verbal  agreement?  How  easy  it  is 
to  pretend  to  have  misunderstood !  And  noth 
ing  can  be  proved.  Nobody  can  ever  catch 
you.  Vengeance  will  never  find  you  out.  Will 
it  not  ?  Listen !  I  know  a  man  with  an  utterly 
unmoral  nature,  who  was  honest  because  he 
never  got  a  perfectly  safe  chance  to  be  dishon 
est.  He  was  well-to-do,  healthy  and  appar 
ently  happy." 

"Who  is  it,  Bee?"  I  cried.  "You  might 
as  well  mention  names.  I'll  never  tell." 

She  shook  her  head  and  continued  despite 
my  pleadings : 

"  His  chance  came.  He  found  an  oppor 
tunity  to  double  his  moderate  fortune.  He 
could  become  rich  —  simply  by  repudiating  a 
contract  with  a  friend  who  trusted  him.  The 
temptation  was  too  much  for  him.  He  suc 
cumbed.  It  impoverished  the  little  family  who 
have  never  got  on  their  feet  since,  but  as  for 
him  —  his  wife  and  little  son  have  never 
known  a  well  day  since,  and  their  illnesses 
date  from  the  time  of  the  man's  crime !  " 

"  Bee,"  I  said,  "  that's  a  perfectly  awful 
idea  you've  got  hold  of.  It  makes  me  shiver 
to  think  of  it.  I  wonder  if  Aubrey  ever 
unconsciously  assimilates  other  people's 
ideas?" 

"  Never !  "    said    Bee,    fiercely.      "  Aubrey 


Vengeance  of  the  Eighth      157 

and  I  may  not  admire  each  other,  but  I'll  stake 
my  life  on  his  honesty  and  truthfulness." 

I  unrolled  myself,  walked  over,  shook  hands 
with  my  sister  and  came  back. 

"  Go  on !  "  I  said.  "  More !  Scare  me 
again !  " 

"  I  often  wonder  as  I  see  this  man's  little 
son  lifted  in  the  arms  of  trained  nurses  and  see 
the  ghastly  face  of  his  wife,  if  he  thinks  of  the 
terrible  vengeance  of  a  law  made  away  back 
in  the  time  of  Moses?  I  also  wonder  if  an 
open  confession  of  his  secret  crime,  full  resti 
tution  to  his  robbed  friends,  and  a  complete 
reform  in  his  life  would  have  any  effect  upon 
the  constantly  recurring  illnesses  of  his  loved 
ones." 

"  But,"  I  cried,  "  why  did  vengeance  skip 
the  man  and  land  on  his  innocent  family?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Bee  quickly,  "  the  ven 
geance  of  the  eighth  strikes  one's  weakest  spot. 
This  man  in  order  to  make  money  would  will 
ingly  have  been  paralyzed  and  done  business 
from  a  wheeled  chair.  But  he  worshipped  his 
family.  If  a  woman  inordinately  loves  her 
brother  or  father,  or  a  man  his  mother  or  wife 
—  through  that  tenderest  love  the  vengeance 
will  come  for  a  crime  which  human  law  is 
powerless  to  punish." 

"  How  about  a  woman  who  marries  a  man 


158  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

for  his  money  without  loving  him?"  I  said. 
"  There's  an  unpunishable  crime  for  you,  if 
you  like !  " 

"Unpunishable,  is  it?"  said  Bee.  "It 
strikes  me  that  such  a  case  carries  its  own  hell 
with  it  every  day  and  hour  and  minute  of  the 
year.  Such  women  don't  have  to  wait  until 
death  to  get  all  that's  coming  to  them.  I  ought 
to  know !  " 

"  Now  look  here,  Bee  Lathrop,"  I  said,  sit 
ting  up.  "  These  are  not  your  ideas.  You 
got  'em  from  somewhere!  Maybe  you  stole 
them!" 

"  No,"  she  said,  laughing.  "  I  didn't  steal 
them.  They  were  given  to  me.  But  what 
makes  you  think  they  are  not  mine?  " 

"  Rubbish !  Haven't  I  known  your  mind 
inside  and  out  ever  since  we  were  babies  ?  You 
never  in  the  world  could  have  thought  out  all 
that  high  moral  stuff  you've  been  regaling  me 
with !  It  is  not  your  style.  Explain  —  " 

"  Well,"  said  Bee,  "  Laflin  Van  Tassel  gave 
me  my  start  —  but  now  I  really  believe  all 
these  things." 

"  Ah,  ha !  I  knew  they  weren't  yours  orig 
inally,"  I  said. 

"  He  writes  lovely  letters,"  said  Bee,  with 
a  conscious  smile. 


Vengeance  of  the  Eighth      159 

She  reached  inside  of  her  blouse  and  drew 
one  forth. 

"  Want  to  have  some  more  in  this  same 
vein?" 

"  Fire  away !  " 

"  Here  it  is.  Listen  to  this.  '  An  entirely 
new  philosophy  of  life  cannot  fail  to  open  up 
to  those  who  sit  by  and  observe  the  world 
hurry  past.  People  used  to  believe  in  a  fierce 
and  avenging  God,  who  delighted  in  dispens 
ing  war,  pestilence  and  disaster  to  His  chil 
dren,  and  that  a  pit  of  flames  burned  joyously 
beyond  the  grave,  tended  day  and  night  by  a 
gentleman  in  red,  with  cloven  hoof  and  a 
forked  tail. 

"  '  But  observation  teaches  differently,  and 
there  are  a  goodly  number  of  men  and  women 
who  believe  that  all  the  Hell  there  is  and  all 
the  Heaven  we  deserve  we  get  right  here  and 
now;  who  believe  that  God  is  a  father  and 
who  believe  that  only  sin  is  ever  punished. 

" '  Such  beliefs  make  a  difference  in  the 
way  you  translate  the  eighth  commandment, 
don't  they?  If  you  hold  these  beliefs,  to  re 
pudiate  a  "  gentleman's  agreement "  with  a 
man  or  woman  who  has  no  way  of  defence  or 
redress,  is  to  bare  your  head  to  a  vengeance 
which  will  make  no  mistake  and  accidentally 


160   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

light  on  the  man  next  door,  or  the  woman 
across  the  street.  It  will  find  your  own  de 
fenceless  pate  and  come  down  with  a  crack 
that  even  the  neighbours  can  hear. 

"  '  I'd  rather  —  I'd  actually  prefer  the 
small-pox  blanket  for  mine,  for  I  am  imbued 
with  such  a  gloriously  healthy  fear  of  what 
happens  to  the  secret  thief  that  I  now  actually 
run  after  the  conductor  to  give  him  my  fare, 
whereas  I  used  to  steal  rides  like  the  rest  of 
the  church  members  with  a  godly  air  of  piety 
on  my  face  which  shook  even  the  composure 
of  the  spotters. 

'  An  infringement  of  the  eighth  command 
ment  is  a  hideous  mental  boomerang,  and  to 
steal  even  a  witticism  and  palm  it  off  as  your 
own  is  to  violate  the  strict  letter  of  the  law. 

"  '  Since  I  learned  the  good,  healthy,  whole 
some  fear  of  the  neverendingness  of  its  ven 
geance,  maybe  you  don't  think  I  am  generous 
with  quotation  marks ! 

"  '  I  am  not  proud.  I  would  rather  you 
would  all  think  from  my  generosity  in  quota 
tion  marks  that  I  never  had  an  original  idea 
in  my  life  than  to  borrow  one  without  giving 
credit  and  turn  around  some  dark  night  to 
see  the  avenging  Eighth  camping  on  my 
trail ! 

'  Take  your  cleverness  —  you,  who  origi- 


Vengeance  of  the  Eighth      161 

nate  it !  Far  be  it  from  me  to  sleep  in  a  small 
pox  blanket  if  I  know  it.'  ' 

Bee  folded  up  the  letter,  put  it  in  her  blouse 
and  rolled  over  on  her  back,  with  her  hands 
under  her  head. 

"  Well,  Bee,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  think  I  ever 
heard  anything  much  finer  than  that.  Laflin 
must  be  awfully  nice !  " 

"  He  is  the  most  wonderful  man  I  ever  met 
in  my  life,"  said  Bee  quietly. 

I  coughed  gently.     Then  I  laughed. 

"  Imagine  Bob  writing  such  a  letter,"  I 
giggled. 

Bee  sniffed  delicately. 

"  Bob !  "  she  said  in  a  derision  which  spoke 
volumes  for  her  opinion  of  Laflin  Van  Tassel. 
But  as  she  volunteered  no  more  concerning 
him,  I  forbore  to  press  her,  well  knowing 
that  I  would  get  it  all  sooner  or  later.  And 
I  was  so  well  pleased  with  the  straw  by  which 
she  had  shown  the  wind's  direction  that  I  felt 
able  to  wait  with  some  degree  of  patience. 

I  suddenly  changed  the  subject. 

"  Look  here,  Bee.  You  don't  mean  to  tell 
me  that  that  old  woman,  Lyddy,  is  sincerely  in 
love  with  our  Bobbie?  " 

"  I  mean  to  tell  you  that  she  is  —  just  that." 

"  But  she  can't  have  a  hope  of  marrying 
him,  even  with  your  help,  can  she?  " 


1 62  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  I  think  she  can,"  answered  Bee. 

"Well,  what  about  Bob's  affair  with  this 
other  girl  ?  "  I  said. 

Bee  paused  and  looked  down  thoughtfully. 

"  You  say  Ava  Corliss  has  a  Puritan  con 
science  ?  " 

"  As  Bob  gracefully  puts  it  —  'It  sticks  out 
so  you  bark  your  shins  on  it,'  "  I  giggled. 

"  Well,"  said  Bee  slowly,  "  of  course  one 
doesn't  wish  to  take  advantage  of  the  awful- 
ness  of  such  a  situation,  but  I  must  say  that 
it  gives  me  the  first  solid  terra  firma  to  stand 
on  that  I've  had  since  I  knew  that  Bob  was 
engaged.  Most  of  the  time  I've  been  swim 
ming  in  a  sea  of  glorious  plans.  Now  I  can 
begin  intelligent  work." 

And  with  that  she  left  me. 

Agape,  of  course. 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE   WIDOW   ASSISTS 

WHEN  Aubrey's  cousin,  Col.  John 
Mockridge,  who  is  Commandant 
of  Cadets  at  West  Point,  asked  us 
to  come  up  and  help  stage  a  play  the  officers' 
wives  were  getting  up,  we  went  with  great 
joy,  because  Edith  and  John  were  exceedingly 
agreeable  people,  and  as  Aubrey  cared  for  so 
few  of  his  relatives,  or  rather,  so  few  of  his 
relatives  were  worth  caring  for,  we  eagerly 
cultivated  those  who  were. 

Col.  Mockridge  was  a  big  man,  with  a  big, 
booming  laugh.  He  dearly  loved  to  tell  the 
story  of  how  his  wife  once  engaged  a  negro 
cook  from  an  intelligence  office,  who  had  such 
trouble  with  the  name  Mockridge,  that  Mrs. 
Mockridge  finally  said : 

"  Well,  never  mind  the  name.  When  you 
get  to  West  Point  just  ask  anybody  to  show 
you  where  we  live.  Ask  for  the  Command 
ant's  house.  You  can  remember  that,  can't 
you?" 

"  Is  dat  whah  you  all  lives  ?  "  she  answered 
163 


164  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

scornfully.  "  Den  you  needn't  trouble  me 
wid  any  more  instructions,  caze  I  ain't  a-com- 
in' !  I  wouldn't  \vuk  for  nobody  what  lived 
in  a  common  dance  house!  I'se  got  moh 
selfrespeck !  " 

We  played  bridge  a  good  deal  in  those  days, 
but  also,  when  Bee  was  with  us  and  we  had 
six,  we  played  six  handed  euchre  and  bid  for 
trumps. 

I  always  claim  that  card  playing  in  general, 
but  this  game  in  particular,  can  give  a  very 
good  idea  of  the  characters  of  the  players,  for 
while  some  are  always  daring  enough  "  to  go 
it  alone,"  and  risk  losing  twenty,  others  there 
are,  who,  even  on  a  good  hand,  will  be  so 
cautious  that  they  never  play  a  brilliant  game, 
even  when  they  hold  the  cards. 

My  sister  was  of  this  character,  but  then, 
Bee  was  in  every  walk  in  life,  very  politic, 
very  diplomatic  and  never  took  the  lead  openly 
in  anything.  Therefore  it  got  to  be  a  joke 
among  us  when  Bee  would  say,  holding  a  hand 
full  of  trumps,  "  I  assist,"  whereupon  a  chorus 
always  rose  from  the  other  five, 

"  The  widow  assists!  " 

But  Bee  hadn't  come  with  us  this  time,  al 
though  she  had  been  invited  to  join  us  for  the 
week  of  gaiety,  when  the  play  was  to  be  pro 
duced  —  the  week  holding  all  sorts  of  delights 


The  Widow  Assists  165 

for  the  young  people,  including  a  hop,  a  ball 
game  between  Yale  and  West  Point  and  sev 
eral  private  affairs,  to  which  we  were  all  in 
vited. 

The  second  morning  after  our  arrival,  I  got 
the  following  from  Bee. 

"  DEAR  FAITH  :  Please  ask  Edith  if  I  may 
bring  with  me  that  pretty  Miss  Levering.  I 
have  got  to  know  her  very  well  and  find  her 
charming.  She  lives  in  East  65th  Street  just 
off  Fifth  Avenue  and  has  some  money  of  her 
own  —  something  like  three  thousand  a  year. 
Laflin  is  playing  with  her,  but  I  don't  believe 
he  means  anything  by  his  attentions,  whereas, 
with  this  girl's  tact  and  money,  she  would 
make  an  ideal  wife  for  '  Dusty  '  Miller. 

"  She  is  crazy  about  the  army  and  regards 
it  with  the  awe  of  people  who  had  relatives  in 
the  volunteer  service  in  the  Civil  war  —  you 
know  what  I  mean.  So  see  what  you  can  do. 

Ci  Wire  me  if  Edith  has  room  for  us.  If 
not,  I  will  take  her  to  the  Howe's  or  the  hotel. 

"  With  love  to  Edith,  John  and  Aubrey,  I 
am,  as  ever, 

"  Devotedly, 

"  BEE. 

"  P.  S.  I  do  hope  you  will  use  what  little 
sense  God  endowed  you  with  in  this  matter, 


1 66  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

which  possibly  even  you  can  see  is  a  delicate 
one. 

"  BEE." 

As  Edith  had  an  extra  room  she  was  glad 
to  say  yes,  and  I  had  just  wired  Bee  to  that 
effect  when  Dusty  called. 

Dusty  was  the  nicest  cadet  at  the  Academy, 
we  all  thought.  He  was  neither  brilliant  nor 
rich  nor  particularly  anything.  Only  he  was 
sweet  and  high  principled  and  dear,  and  in  his 
uniform,  he  was  —  well,  he  was  enough  to 
make  any  girl  leave  all  else  and  cleave  only 
unto  him.  His  dancing  was  nothing  short  of 
divine,  and  the  way  he  made  each  one  of  us 
feel  as  if  we  were  the  only  woman  in  his  mind 
for  the  time  being,  was  something  rather 
awful. 

"  I  say,  Mrs.  Jardine,"  Dusty  cried  out, 
"  I've  just  had  the  jolliest  sort  of  a  letter  from 
your  sister,  Mrs.  Lathrop.  Will  you  read  it? 
I  want  to  talk  to  you  a  little  about  it  after 
ward." 

I  felt  myself  go  rather  cold  at  this,  for  Bee 
thinks  I  am  awfully  dull  at  seconding  what 
she  terms  perfectly  palpable  diplomatic  oppor 
tunities,  and  I  knew,  if  I  failed  her  in  this 
crisis,  I  should  have  to  answer  to  her  like  a 
person  at  the  bar  of  justice  —  such  being  the 


The  Widow  Assists  167 

firm  manner  in  which  my  sister  managed  the 
family  into  which  it  had  pleased  Providence 
to  call  her. 

But  such  was  Dusty's  compelling  charm 
that  when  he  pulled  out  Bee's  letter  I  took  it 
and  read  it.  It  ran  as  follows: 

"  DEAR  DUSTY  :  I  wonder  if  you  will  be 
good  enough  to  help  me  out  of  a  mess  without 
helping  yourself  into  one? 

"  The  fact  is,  I  promised  in  a  moment  of 
recklessness  to  take  an  awfully  pretty  girl 
friend  of  mine  to  a  West  Point  hop,  intending 
to  put  it  off  if  possible  until  next  year,  when 
Loyal  Jerome  will  be  a  first  classman,  because 
I  have  set  my  heart  on  getting  him  a  rich  and 
pretty  wife.  He,  as  you  know,  is  a  sort  of 
cousin  of  ours,  so  it  behooves  us  to  have  him 
marry  the  right  sort  of  a  girl. 

"  But  if  you  please,  the  minx  decided  that 
she  wanted  to  go  to  one  now,  and  she  boldly 
asked  me  if  I  couldn't  take  her  to  this  one. 

"  I  am  in  despair.  I  know  all  the  cards  are 
made  out  —  I  know  you  probably  have  asked 
your  girl  weeks  ago  —  I  know  you  can't  get 
another  card  filled,  but  what  shall  I  do? 

"  Will  you  see  if  there  is  room  for  one 
more?  If  not,  she  will  simply  have  to  wait. 

"If  you  find  that  you  can  arrange  the  mat- 


1 68  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

ter  for  me,  please  remember  this.  Miss  Lever 
ing  is  very  young  —  she  won't  be  nineteen 
until  next  month.  She  has  an  income  of  three 
thousand  dollars  a  year  or  thereabouts,  in  her 
own  right,  and  her  father  will  doubtless  leave 
her  more.  She  is  one  of  the  prettiest  girls  I 
ever  saw,  also  the  gentlest  and  sweetest,  so  I 
want  you  to  make  me  a  solemn  promise  that 
you  will  not  make  love  to  her,  nor  allow  any 
of  the  others  to  do  so,  unless  she  should  see 
and  take  a  fancy  to  Loyal.  Try  to  have  them 
meet,  if  you  can.  It  would  look  better  if  you 
introduced  them,  rather  than  myself. 

"  Wire  me  if  you  can  get  her  card  filled. 
I  look  forward  to  my  own  dances  with  you 
with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 

"  With  kind  regards  to  '  Dutch '  and 
*  Lamps,'  I  am, 

"  Very  sincerely  your  friend, 

"  BEATRICE  LATHROP. 

"  P.  S.  It  will  not  do  you  the  slightest 
good  to  get  silly  over  Miss  Levering  yourself, 
as  I  have  determined  on  my  course  of  action, 
so  beware! 

"  B.  L." 

I  looked  at  him  suspiciously  to  see  if  the 
smell  of  cheese  was  noticeable  on  the  trap,  but 


The  Widow  Assists  169 

evidently  it  wasn't,  for  I  looked  him  straight 
in  the  eye  and  I  saw  there  what  pleased  me  so 
much  that  I  instantly  decided  that  if  Amy 
Levering  wanted  to  settle  herself  in  life  with 
a  good  husband,  she  couldn't  do  better  than  to 
let  Dusty  Miller  fall  in  love  with  her,  were  he 
so  minded. 

"What  can  you  do  at  this  late  day?"  I 
asked. 

"  Do !  "  he  cried.  "  Why,  do  what  your  sis 
ter  tells  me  to  do,  of  course.  What  else  is 
there  to  do  when  Mrs.  Lathrop  expresses  a 
wish  ?  I  hustled  around  and  got  her  card  half 
filled  before  I  wired." 

"  Have  you  wired  already?  "  I  asked  in  sur 
prise. 

"  Wired  before  noon  —  to  set  her  mind  at 
rest  and  give  them  plenty  of  time  to  pack." 

"  You  are  a  thoughtful  boy,  Dusty,"  I  said. 

He  beamed. 

"  Might  just  as  well  make  people  comfort 
able  when  you  can,"  he  said.  "  We  only  go 
along  the  road  once,  you  know." 

"  I  know,  but  you  are  young  to  have 
learned  it." 

"  My  mother  taught  me  that,"  he  said, 
simply.  "It  was  her  way!" 

The  quiet  dignity  and  sweetness  of  the  boy 
struck  me  afresh.  I  suddenly  wondered  if  this 


170   The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

Amy  Levering  were  good  enough  for  him  or 
if  she  were  but  "  a  rag  and  a  bone  and  a  hank 
of  hair,"  like  some  other  girls  I  knew,  and 
would  break  his  heart. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  her?  "  he  asked  sud 
denly. 

"  Seen  who?  "  I  asked,  ungrammatically  but 
comfortably. 

"  Miss  Levering,"  he  answered,  a  tinge  of 
colour  coming  into  his  bronzed  face.  The 
poison  was  already  beginning  to  work. 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  her  twice.  Once  at  a 
party  at  Sherry's  when  Laflin  Van  Tassel  was 
allowing  her  the  joy  of  ordering  the  dinner. 
She  was  awfully  slow,  but  she  was  so  plainly 
enjoying  herself  that  he  was  most  patient  with 
her.  He  is  a  lovely  fellow.  And  the  other 
time  was  at  a  polo  game  at  Coolmeath." 

"Beastly  rich,  this  Van  Tassel,  isn't  he?" 
demanded  Dusty  jealously. 

"Millionaire!" 

"  I  wonder  if  she  is  the  kind  to  marry  for 
money?"  he  asked  wistfully,  being  poor  as  a 
church  mouse  himself. 

"  Most  girls  are,"  I  observed  cruelly.  "  It 
is  terribly  old  fashioned  now-a-days  to  let 
preference  interfere  with  business  interests." 

He  looked  at  me  with  eyes  which  gradually 
grew  brighter. 


The  Widow  Assists 


"  That's  a  pretty  fair  statement  of  what 
love  and  marriage  have  come  to  mean  in  a 
certain  set,"  he  said  slowly.  "  Preference  and 
business  interest.  You  remember  what  Ste 
venson  says  in  '  Virginibus  Puerisque  '  ?  " 

I  nodded.     We  had  discussed  it  often. 

"  /  am  pretty  safe,"  he  said  ruefully. 
"  Everybody  knows  that  I  sha'n't  have  a  cent 
but  my  pay,  so  I  don't  stand  in  as  dangerous 
a  position  as  this  precious  Van  Tassel  of  yours 
—  of  being  married  for  my  money.  The  girl 
I  marry,  can't  marry  me  for  anything  but  that 
obsolete  article  —  love  !  " 

"  Stop  a  minute,  silly,  and  let  me  set  your 
mind  right  on  that  delicate  point,"  I  said. 
"  Army  officers,  holding  established  positions 
and  representing,  with  our  navy,  about  our 
only  national  aristocracy,  have  as  much  to 
offer  a  poor,  ambitious  or  low-born  girl  as  the 
veriest  millionaire  who  ever  needed  a  keeper 
to  ward  off  bombarding  females.  Don't  be 
quite  so  modest  !  You  will  be  an  officer  in  the 
United  States  army,  and  especially  as  you  will 
graduate  so  near  the  head,  you  will  surely  get 
into  the  engineers  or  the  Artillery,  which 
means  a  lot.  You  go  slow,  Dusty  Miller,  and 
keep  your  eyes  open  !  " 

He  laughed  boyishly. 

"  I'm  too  precious  to  be  allowed  out  of  pink 


172    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

cotton  —  to  hear  you  tell  it !  "  he  cried.  "  Oh, 
Mrs.  Jardine !  I  hope  what  you  and  I  have 
talked  about  so  often  isn't  all  moonshine!  I 
hope  there  is  a  sincere,  truehearted  girl  in  the 
world  for  me  somewhere,  who  won't  think 
that  brass  buttons  and  shoulder  straps  make 
the  man.  Don't  women  care  for  a  heart  any 
more  at  all?  " 

"  Yes,  dear  child,  they  do  —  heaps  of  them ! 
You  are  looking  at  a   fool   right  now,   who 
values  sentiment  and  love  and  truth  above  — 
above  —  " 

"  Above  automobiles !  "  he  finished  for  me, 
knowing  my  weakness. 

"  Yes,  even  above  those  sacred  pieces  of 
bric-a-brac,"  I  said  fervently. 

"  I  believe  you.     And  —  do  you  know  ?  — 
it's  a  comfort  to  find  even  one !  " 

"  Go  on  now,  and  find  Loyal,  and  tell  him 
I  want  him,"  I  said.  "  I  suppose  a  first  class 
man  can  so  condescend  when  aforesaid  second 
class-man  happens  to  be  a  relative?  " 

"  Are  you  going  to  tell  him  about  Miss 
Levering?"  he  demanded. 

"  Certainly  not !  "  I  said  with  asperity,  "  and 
so  prejudice  him  against  her?  Why,  if  we 
had  wanted  you  to  fall  in  love  with  her,  my 
sister  wouldn't  have  written  you  like  that, 
would  she?  " 


The  Widow  Assists  173 

I  reared  my  crest  with  pride,  feeling  that 
this  neat  touch  was  worthy  of  the  tortuous 
Bee  herself.  But  I  felt  guilty,  not  being  an 
adept  in  her  art. 

Dusty  looked  thoughtful,  then  he  shook  his 
head. 

"  I  never  know  what  a  woman  will  do,  or 
what  she  means  by  what  she  does  do !  "  he 
said  in  desperation. 

"  Which  shows  you  are  in  a  very  healthful 
state  of  mind,"  I  laughed.  "  When  a  man 
frankly  confesses  his  inability  to  understand 
even  the  simplest  woman-problem,  all  the  other 
women  stand  ready  to  explain  matters  and  to 
help  him  along." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  he  said,  rising  to  go  and 
bowing  over  my  hand  in  his  inimitable  way, 
"  for  I  feel  that  I  shall  need  help  before  long." 

This  little  talk  put  me  so  ardently  on 
Dusty's  side,  that  when  Bee  arrived  with  Amy 
Levering,  I  met  the  girl  almost  antagonistic 
ally.  Not  that  I  should  have,  of  course,  for 
she,  like  the  rest  of  us,  had  we  only  been  able 
to  keep  the  fact  constantly  in  our  minds,  was 
only  one  of  Bee's  puppets,  who  danced  at  her 
bidding. 

But  antagonism  could  not  breathe  long  in 
the  vicinity  of  this  girl,  who  reminded  me  of 
nothing  so  much  as  an  old-fashioned  moss 


174    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

rosebud,  so  gentle,  so  modest  and  so  fragrant 
she  was. 

She  even  had  a  certain  sweet  wistfulness  in 
her  expression,  which  I  have  always  associ 
ated  in  my  mind  with  moss  roses,  as  if  they 
begged  you  to  treat  them  with  gentleness. 

Bee  at  once  gave  me  particulars  about  Amy 
which  further  enlisted  me.  Her  father  had 
married  a  second  time,  hence  Amy's  money 
was  her  inheritance  from  her  mother.  There 
was  a  second  brood  of  children,  and  Amy's 
position  in  the  family  was  rather  unenviable. 
Her  stepmother  was  not  cruel,  but  she  was  in 
tensely  ambitious  for  her  children,  therefore 
the  hint  for  Amy  to  marry  early  and  take  her 
self  out  of  fifteen-year-old  Julia's  way  was 
given  in  a  way  there  could  be  no  mistaking. 

The  stepmother  was  clever,  however,  and  in 
spite  of  risking  eclipse  for  herself  in  not  being 
able  to  make  so  brilliant  a  match  for  her  own 
daughter,  she  was  in  full  cry  after  Laflin  Van 
Tassel  for  Amy,  and  was,  to  all  appearances, 
in  a  fair  way  to  bag  her  game,  or  rather,  to 
run  down  her  quarry,  when  a  benign  Provi 
dence  caused  the  widow  Lathrop  to  observe 
the  chase  and  deign  to  take  an  interest. 

Mrs.  Levering  did  not  know  Bee's  methods 
of  procedure  or  she  would  have  incarcerated 
her  in  some  way,  in  order  to  keep  her  out  of 


The  Widow  Assists  175 

the  affair.  But,  for  some  curious  reason,  Bee 
is  never  suspected  of  being  a  motive  power  by 
anybody.  Even  after  the  game  has  been  tri 
umphantly  won,  Bee's  esoteric  part  in  the  vic 
tory  always  goes  under  the  modest  phrase  of 
"  I  assisted." 

The  first  time  Dusty  and  Amy  saw  each 
other  was  at  the  hop,  and  owing  to  Dusty's 
popularity  as  a  dancer,  he  had  been  unable  to 
write  his  name  on  her  card  before  the  sixth, 
which  was  a  waltz. 

Before  that  he  had  not  even  been  presented, 
but  I  saw  him  when  his  eyes  first  rested  on  her, 
as  she  entered  the  ballroom  with  our  party, 
and  from  the  way  his  gray  eyes  grew  black, 
I  knew  he  was  deeply  stirred. 

"  Who  is  that?  "  she  said  quickly. 

"That?  Oh,  that  is  'Dusty'  Miller,  the 
star  player  on  the  football  team.  They  count 
on  his  not  allowing  Yale  to  wipe  the  ground 
with  the  Army  boys !  " 

"  Dusty !  "  she  said.  "  What  a  funny  nick 
name  ! " 

'  There  is  another  Miller  here,  whom  they 
call   the   '  Moth  '   Miller.     And   two   Bells  - 
one  '  Ding-dong '  and  one  '  Jingle.'  ' 

"  What  is  his  real  name?  "  asked  Amy,  ig 
noring  all  side  issues  and  still  speaking  of  the 
man  who  stood  looking  at  her  over  the  heads 


176    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

of  the  others  as  if  he  had  never  seen  a  girl 
before. 

"  Willing  Miller  —  his  mother  was  a  Phila 
delphia  Willing.  He  is  a  cousin  of  Cynthia 
Willing  —  the  girl  Jermyn  Loring  is  in  love 
with !  " 

Amy  paid  no  attention  to  poor  Jermyn's  as 
pirations.  She  simply  drew  her  breath  deeply 
and  her  colour  rose  under  Dusty's  ardent  gaze. 

She  was  a  pretty  girl  at  any  time,  but  that 
night  she  was  enough  to  turn  the  head  of  even 
the  most  case-hardened. 

Her  dress  was  white  and  fluffed  out  around 
her  feet  in  multitudinous  ruffles,  over  which 
hung  what  looked  like  seaweed,  or  green 
grasses,  in  the  midst  of  which  were  clustered 
here  and  there  bunches  of  small  pink  roses. 
The  skirt  was  looped  with  these  little  clusters, 
her  sash  was  green,  and  her  bodice  edged  with 
a  narrower  band  of  the  same  green  grasses 
and  pink  rosebuds.  Her  curls  were  dressed  in 
a  loose  Psyche  knot,  tied  with  a  broad  soft 
pink  ribbon,  and  her  bouquet  was  pink  roses, 
with  long  green  ribbons. 

This  striking,  yet  simple  costume,  marked 
her  at  once  as  possessing  individuality  and 
taste,  the  women  critically  dissecting  it,  yet 
forced  to  admire  it,  and  the  men,  enchanted 
by  the  picture  she  made  in  it,  taking  it  in 


The  Widow  Assists  177 

bodily,  bewildered  by  the  effect,  without  know 
ing  in  the  least  how  it  was  produced,  nor  car 
ing  one  whit.  All  they  knew  was  that  it  re 
minded  them  of  something  cool  and  green  and 
summary,  and  her  wistful  beauty  tinged  the 
daguerreotype  her  appearance  suggested,  with 
the  old  fashioned  romance  which  lies  deep 
down  in  every  man's  heart,  and  which  springs 
suddenly  to  life  at  such  things  as  a  tangled 
garden  of  the  blooms  of  his  boyhood  recol 
lection,  or  the  sight  of  a  moss-grown  well,  or 
the  bars  of  an  old  song,  sung  in  the  twilight. 

Dusty  Miller  felt  all  this  and  more  the  very 
first  moment  he  saw  Amy  Levering.  He  fell 
in  love  with  her  at  sight  and  fell  hard.  And 
I  knew  from  the  way  Bee  drew  in  her  breath 
and  cleared  her  throat  that  she,  too,  had  seen 
and  observed  his  emotion. 

Her  management  was  masterly.  She  pre 
vented  an  introduction,  although  Dusty's  eyes 
begged  her  dumbly  like  a  dog's.  She  sur 
rounded  Amy  with  other  men.  She  took 
Dusty  for  her  own  property,  and  when  she 
could  no  longer  manage  him,  she  gave  him 
to  me  with  a  fierce  sisterly  look  which  meant 
"  Take  this  away  with  you  and  do  what  you 
know  I  want  done  with  it !  " 

I  generally  obey  orders,  but  I  am  so  soft, 
Dusty  at  once  took  advantage  of  my  easiness 


I7&    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

and  came  out  with  a  request  which  Bee  would 
have  prevented. 

"  Introduce  me  to  her !  "  he  begged.  "  I 
believe  I  have  gone  crazy !  " 

What  use  would  it  have  been  for  me  to  look 
bewildered  and  ask  what  he  meant?  I  knew 
and  he  knew  that  I  knew.  So  instead  of  obey 
ing  Bee,  inside  of  five  minutes  Dusty  and  I 
were  actually  rummaging  among  the  cozy 
corners  between  dances  trying  in  the  boldest 
manner  to  find  Amy  Levering. 

But  Bee  was  too  much  for  us.  She  had 
Amy  hemmed  in  three  deep,  so  that  when  we 
found  her  even  Dusty  gave  it  up  and  turned 
back  to  dance  sadly  with  me. 

Ours  was  the  fourth.  Dusty  danced  the 
fifth  with  Edith  Mockridge,  who,  in  her  ca 
pacity  as  one  of  the  patronesses,  kept  him  on 
duty  until  the  music  for  the  sixth  was  about 
to  begin. 

It  happened  that  Amy's  partner  for  the  fifth 
was  a  cadet  named  Atwood,  who  was  just  out 
of  the  hospital  after  a  sprained  ankle,  so  they 
went  around  the  room  but  once,  then  sat  down 
next  to  me  to  rest.  Presently  I  saw  the  boy 
go  rather  pale,  and  I  told  him  to  go  out  and 
get  some  fresh  air  and  that  I  would  keep  Miss 
Levering  with  me  until  the  next  dance. 

The  poor  fellow  was  profuse  in  his  apolo- 


The  Widow  Assists  179 

gies,  but  I  could  see  that  he  had  overtaxed 
himself,  so  we  urged  him  to  go,  which  he 
finally  did. 

No  sooner  were  we  left  alone  than  Amy 
turned  and  looked  searchingly  in  my  face  for 
a  moment,  then  with  a  quick  sigh  she  slipped 
her  little  gloved  hand  into  mine. 

I  don't  know  when  I  have  been  so  touched 
at  the  simplicity  of  her  appraisement  and  the 
confidence  betrayed  by  that  little  cuddling 
move  of  hers. 

I  pressed  her  hand  and  said  nothing.  Pres 
ently  she  lifted  her  flowers  to  her  face  and 
behind  that  screen  murmured, 

"  Mrs.  Jardine,  do  you  believe  that  two 
people  ever  fall  in  love  at  first  sight  ?  " 

"  I  do  indeed,  my  dear !  "  I  said  fervently. 
"  My  husband  did  worse  than  that  —  he  pro 
posed  to  me  the  first  night  we  ever  met  and 
before  we  had  spoken  together  ten  minutes !  " 

Amy  turned  to  me  with  a  face  flashing  like 
sunlight  on  the  water. 

"  Oh,  how  lovely!  How  lovely!  "  she  cried. 
"  And  you  —  what  did  you  do  ?  Was  it  the 
same  with  you?  " 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  I  laughed  in  his  face 
and  went  on  with  my  previous  affair  with  an 
other  man.  But  why  did  you  ask  me  that?" 

"  Because  the  first  man  I  saw  when  we  came 


180   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

in  to-night,  has  the  face  I  always  see  when  I 
dream.  He  seemed  to  recognize  me  in  just 
the  same  way,  for  I  saw,  I  actually  saw  him 
straighten  up  and  look  surprised,  and  his  eyes 
turned  black  —  quite  black.  I  haven't  met  him 
yet,  but  all  the  evening  he  has  kept  close  to 
where  I  was  and  his  eyes  look  straight  into 
mine  always.  The  next  dance  is  his  and  — 
and  —  he  is  coming  for  me  now !  " 

I  don't  often  allow  myself  to  be  foolish  or 
overpowered  in  public,  but  somehow,  both 
Amy  and  Dusty  struck  me  as  being  out  of  the 
common  and  wonderfully  sincere  and  un 
worldly,  so  that  when  I  saw  Dusty  bearing 
down  upon  us,  and  looking  straight  into 
Amy's  eyes,  and  Amy,  without  waiting  for 
me  to  speak  or  even  introduce  them,  rose  and 
stood  waiting,  and  then,  the  band  striking  up 
at  that  moment,  Dusty  just  naturally  opened 
his  arms  and  Amy  fluttered  into  them,  it 
didn't  even  seem  odd  to  me  —  it  seemed  to  be 
the  only  thing  in  the  world  for  them  to  do. 
Nor  did  I,  as  a  chaperon,  find  it  at  all  objec 
tionable  when  I  saw  him  draw  her  much 
closer  than  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion 
seemed  to  demand,  and  I  smiled  at  them  joy 
ously  for  doing  it. 

That's  the  kind  of  a  chaperon  /  am! 

But  after  they  were  gone  and  my  Angel 


The  Widow  Assists  181 

came  to  sit  out  a  dance  with  me,  I  gasped  at 
my  shocking  behaviour,  and  I  wondered  if 
they  would  be  married  before  I  saw  them 
again,  or  only  just  engaged! 

They  have  never  admitted  it,  but  I  believe 
they  knew  before  that  waltz  was  over  that 
they  were  destined  for  each  other,  for  I  have 
never  seen  such  an  exalted  look  on  any  two 
peoples'  faces  as  I  saw  on  theirs. 

Still  they  said  absolutely  nothing,  nor  could 
Bee  dig  a  word  out  of  Amy  either  then  or 
afterward,  which  accounts  for  what  followed. 

I  have  never  seen  an  army  post  which  did 
not  possess  its  married  flirt,  and  West  Point  at 
this  particular  time  was  no  exception  to  the 
rule. 

Mrs.  Caxton  was  pretty,  vivacious  and  ut 
terly  untrustworthy.  She  was  a  demoraliz 
ing  influence  which  everyone  felt  who  came 
near  her,  but  she  was  of  the  clinging  vine  sort, 
and  chivalrous  young  men,  like  those  at  the 
Academy,  were  loth  to  treat  her  as  cavalierly 
as  she  deserved. 

It  so  happened  that  Dusty  Miller  was  her 
latest  selection,  and  seeing  the  sort  of  devo 
tion  he  laid  at  Amy  Levering's  feet  that  night, 
inflamed  her  shallow  heart  with  jealous  hate. 

I  exonerate  Bee  entirely  in  this  affair.  I 
do  not  believe  that  Mrs.  Caxton  needed  to 


1 82  The    Concentrations  of  Bee 

have  anyone  point  out  how  Dusty  was  falling 
in  love,  —  still,  I  must  say  that  if  Bee  had 
thought  the  affair  showed  symptoms  of  not 
moving  to  her  taste,  she  was  perfectly  capable 
of  setting  such  a  woman  as  Mrs.  Caxton  to 
stir  things  up  a  bit. 

But  be  that  as  it  may,  the  band  was  playing 
Home  Sweet  Home  and  the  last  of  the  most 
brilliant  hop  of  the  season  was  about  over,  and 
the  dear  gray  and  white  uniforms  against  the 
soft  ball  gowns  of  the  girls  were  circling 
slowly  and  still  more  slowly  until  the  end  was 
reached,  when  Mrs.  Caxton  caught  something 
of  hers  in  Amy's  lace,  which  tore  so  shock 
ingly  that  not  one  woman  in  the  room  believed 
it  was  an  accident. 

Of  course  there  were  exclamations  and 
apologies  and  introductions,  and  Amy  was 
the  only  unsuspicious  person  in  the  group,  for 
I  saw  even  some  of  the  cadets  exchange 
glances. 

Mrs.  Caxton  insisted  upon  taking  Amy  to 
the  dressing  room  and  examining  into  the 
damage,  and  they  finally  went  upstairs  to 
gether,  Mrs.  Caxton's  arm  around  Amy's 
waist. 

Mrs.  Caxton  finally  wound  the  matter  up 
by  asking  Amy  to  drive  with  her  the  next  day 
to  prove  that  Amy  did  not  bear  malice,  and  as 


The  Widow  Assists  183 

Mrs.  Caxton  had  a  delicious  little  basket  phae 
ton,  Bee  told  Amy  that  she  would  better  go, 
and  they  arranged  to  meet  us  afterward  at 
dress  parade. 

I  saw  Amy  at  luncheon  and  learned  that 
she  and  Dusty  had  been  down  Flirtation  Walk 
together,  and  that  her  first  view  of  West  Point 
had  been  given  her  by  him.  I  carried  the  pic 
ture  of  that  child's  face  in  my  memory  for 
many  a  long  day,  for  I  never  saw  it  exactly 
the  same  again. 

I  don't  know  what  happened  during  that 
drive.  I  only  know  that  when  that  Caxton 
woman  brought  Amy  to  where  our  party  were 
standing  to  watch  the  parade  from,  I  had  to 
look  twice  to  see  if  it  were  Amy,  so  white,  so 
wan,  so  piteous  was  her  look. 

Mrs.  Caxton's  face  was  full  of  bright  mal 
ice,  and  she  left  us  with  the  wickedest  little 
laugh  I  ever  heard. 

I  have  only  a  confused  recollection  of  that 
superb  spectacle,  dress  parade  at  West  Point. 
The  immaculate  uniforms,  the  clock-like  pre 
cision,  the  soldierly  bearing  of  those  dear  boys 
—  all  were  blurred.  My  whole  thought  was  to 
shield  this  white-lipped  girl  from  observation 
and  to  get  her  home. 

As  I  laughed  and  talked  with  others  I  felt 
Aubrey  press  a  paper  into  my  hand. 


184   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Don't  read  it  until  you  get  home,"  he 
whispered. 

When  I  was  at  liberty  to  look  for  him,  both 
he  and  Amy  had  disappeared. 

I  thought  the  time  would  never  come  when 
I  could  find  the  time,  in  that  gay  set  of  chat 
terers  to  read  that  pencilled  scrawl.  It  was 
from  Amy  and  said  simply : 

"  I  have  gone  home.  Let  me  go  quietly, 
for  I  believe  I  am  dying." 

Aubrey  came  into  the  room  just  as  I  read  it. 

"Where  is  she?  In  her  room?  Did  you 
bring  her  home?  What  is  the  matter  with 
her?  Did  she  tell  you?  Did  you  see  this 
note?  I  must  go  to  her  at  once!  " 

He  caught  at  my  hand  as  I  rushed  by  him. 

"  I  put  her  on  the  train  —  on  the  New  York 
side.  She  has  gone  home  alone.  The  child 
is  desperately  hurt  and  the  best  thing  is  to  let 
her  fight  it  out  alone." 

"Aubrey!"  I  cried.  "Aubrey!  You  let 
that  girl  go  alone !  " 

"  I  telephoned  Mrs.  Jimmie  to  meet  her  at 
the  station.  She  will  know  what  to  do !  " 

"  Yes,  so  she  will !  Poor  dear !  What  was 
it,  do  you  think?  What  did  Mrs.  Caxton  tell 
her?" 

"  I  don't  know,  but  it  must  have  been  pretty 
bad.  That  woman  is  a  devil !  " 


The  Widow  Assists  185 

It  is  a  serious  thing  to  be  a  cadet  at  West 
Point  when  you  are  in  love.  Although  Col. 
Mockridge  was  our  cousin  and  could  have 
given  Dusty  leave  to  go  to  New  York  ten 
times  over,  he  wouldn't  do  it,  for  he  not  only 
ridiculed  the  idea  that  these  two  were  in  love, 
but  he  rather  resented  our  believing  it,  and 
our  interference  irritated  his  usual  placid  soul 
to  such  an  extent  that  he  finally  said  that  he 
was  glad  Mrs.  Caxton  said  enough  to  put  a 
stop  to  such  utter  foolishness  as  a  belief  among 
sensible  persons  that  anything  serious  could 
come  of  a  twenty-four-hour  infatuation. 

In  vain  we  cited  "  The  Brushwood  Boy  " 
and  told  of  all  the  instances  we  knew,  as  well 
as  some  we  made  up.  He  was  obdurate,  and 
I  was  forced  to  see  Dusty  suffer  during  that 
wretched  week,  as  I  never  care  to  see  a  man 
suffer  again. 

/  believed  in  the  love  of  these  two  at  any  rate. 

I  know  this.  Dusty  wrote  to  Amy  every 
day  for  two  months,  before  she  would  even 
open  a  letter.  She  returned  them  to  him, 
everyone.  Still,  he  told  me  it  was  a  comfort 
even  to  see  her  handwriting  on  the  envelopes, 
and  that  he  never  tore  one  open  without  the 
hope  that  she  had  relented  and  answered. 

In  vain  did  I  attempt  to  find  out  what  sort 
of  a  lie  Mrs.  Caxton  had  told.  Had  Dusty 


1 86  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

been  foolish  and  written  a  letter  that  she  could 
show  ?  Dusty  swore  he  hadn't. 

There  was  a  frightful  row,  about  something 
else,  ostensibly,  but  Mrs.  Caxton  was  finally 
made  to  see  that  she  was  persona  non  grata, 
so  she  left  West  Point,  taking  her  docile  hus 
band  with  her  to  stir  up  trouble  in  another 
post.  Officially  it  read  that  her  husband  was 
"  transferred." 

Finally  Bee  did  what  only  a  very  brave  and 
a  very  clever  woman  would  dare  to  do. 

She  set  herself  to  bring  Amy  Levering  and 
Laflin  Van  Tassel  together. 

To  be  sure,  she  knew  by  this  time  that  Amy 
was  a  girl  of  spirit  and  courage,  and  we  had 
all  come  to  realize  that  she  would  win,  along 
any  lines  she  chose  to  lay  down  for  herself. 
She  had  a  will  of  iron  under  that  delicate,  wist 
ful  beauty  of  hers. 

And  her  self-control  was  wonderful. 

She  allowed  herself  to  be  paired  off  with 
Laflin  at  dinners,  and  she  seemed  to  all  out 
ward  appearances  to  be  satisfied  with  the  way 
things  were  going,  but  once  when  she  was 
alone  with  me  she  threw  herself  into  my  arms 
weeping  bitterly  and  sobbing  out : 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Jardine!  My  'Brushwood 
Boy'!  The  hero  of  all  my  dreams!" 

She  listened  to  my  accounts  of  how  Dusty 


The  Widow  Assists  187 

distinguished  himself  on  the  gridiron  and  how 
well  he  acted  in  the  play,  but  no  amount  of  art 
could  draw  from  her  one  word  of  the  trouble 
between  them. 

Finally,  on  Bee's  hint,  I  wrote  Dusty  a  long 
letter,  in  which  I  artfully  mingled  Amy's  and 
Laflin's  names.  In  fact,  I  stirred  up  his  jeal 
ousy  to  the  best  of  my  poor  ability. 

The  result  of  my  prowess  made  me  feel 
that  my  art  was  almost  too  strong  for  every 
day  use,  for  the  next  train  brought  Dusty  to 
New  York. 

"  Dusty,"  I  cried  when  I  saw  him,  "  had 
you  leave  to  come?  " 

He  shook  his  head  miserably. 

"  No,  the  Superintendent  wouldn't  give  it  to 
me,  so  I'll  have  to  resign.  But  I  don't  mind 
even  that  if  I  can  only  see  Amy.  Do  you  think 
you  could  manage  it  for  me." 

"  Could  I?  "  I  cried  valiantly.  "  I'll  bring 
her  —  dead  or  alive !  " 

I  brought  her! 

And  I  left  them  alone  together  in  my  studio 
for  one  whole  blissful  afternoon. 

And  they  made  it  up  —  whatever  it  was. 

By  four  o'clock  they  were  safely  engaged. 
For  I  descended  upon  them  with  tea  and  de 
manded  to  know.  I  frankly  told  them  that  I 
could  not  bear  the  suspense  any  longer. 


1 88  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

They  both  kissed  me,  and  Amy  would  have 
kissed  Aubrey,  if  she  had  not  seen  how  queer 
Aubrey  looked  when  Dusty  kissed  me,  so  she 
considerately  forbore.  But  she  looked  as 
though  she  would  like  to  kiss  the  whole  world 
and  let  it  know  how  much  beauty  there  was  in 
life  and  how  much  to  love. 

Aubrey,  who  knows  his  cousin,  Col.  Mock- 
ridge,  and  the  Superintendent  and  army  disci 
pline  better  than  the  rest  of  us  do,  looked  grave 
when  I  told  him  that  Dusty  was  here  without 
leave. 

"  Unless  we  can  placate  the  powers,"  he 
said,  "  it  will  mean  either  a  court  martial  or 
expulsion." 

"  He  says  he  means  to  resign,"  I  said. 

'  That  would  be  a  pity,  for  Miller  is  a  born 
soldier  and  would  make  a  fine  officer.  I  sup 
pose,  though,  that  with  influence  brought  to 
bear,  we  could  get  him  a  civilian  appointment 
afterwards." 

"  Oh,  but  that  would  be  horrid,"  I  cried. 
"  He  is  so  near  the  head  of  his  class  that  he  is 
eligible  for  the  engineers  or  the  artillery  at 
the  worst,  and  then  to  miss  graduation  and 
enter  the  army  as  a  civilian !  " 

"  He  knew  all  that  before  he  came,"  said 
Aubrey. 


The  Widow  Assists  189 

"  Well,  I  should  think  that  would  prove  to 
Col.  Mockridge  that  he  is  in  earnest." 

Aubrey  shook  his  head.  Then  he  went  and 
talked  with  Dusty  awhile.  Finally  he  came 
back  with  a  serious  face. 

"  I  think  I'll  run  up  to  West  Point  and  talk 
to  John  about  the  matter.  You  can  send 
Dusty  to  the  Jimmies'  for  the  night.  I'll  be 
back  in  the  morning." 

The  next  day  a  little  before  noon  my  studio 
presented  an  unusual  appearance.  Amy  and 
Bee  and  Dusty  were  there,  and  Amy,  all  ex 
citement,  brought  the  news  that  she  had 
spread  the  whole  matter  before  her  father  and 
he  had  promised  to  call  on  me  at  twelve  o'clock 
and  look  Dusty  over. 

"  He  didn't  even  tell  mother,  so  that  means 
that  he  is  all  on  our  side,"  cried  Amy. 

When  Cyrus  Levering  entered  the  room,  I 
knew  why  he  had  come  to  be  such  a  power  in 
the  world  of  finance.  He  radiated  strength, 
and  the  iron  will  Amy  had  inherited  looked 
out  of  his  keen  blue  eyes. 

The  young  man  and  the  old  became  friends 
in  that  first  honest  hand  clasp. 

"  So,"  said  Mr.  Levering.  "  My  little  girl 
has  not  been  herself  since  she  went  to  West 
Point  with  Mrs.  Jardine  —  " 


190  The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

I  looked  up  in  astonishment  and  Bee 
smiled. 

"  —  and  you  are  the  Reason,  are  you?" 

"  I  wish  I  could  think  that  I  had  been,"  said 
the  young  man  smiling.  "  But  if  I  had  had 
my  way,  her  knowing  me  would  not  have 
brought  that  look  to  her  face.  The  reason  for 
that  look  wore  skirts." 

The  old  man's  face  broke  into  a  smile. 

"  Do  you  love  my  child,  young  man?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Dusty  solemnly. 

"  Then  treat  her  well  and  I'll  treat  you  well. 
You  won't  have  to  live  on  just  your  salary." 

"  Haven't  you  told  him,  Amy  ? "  asked 
Dusty. 

"Told  him  what?" 

"  That  I  probably  won't  have  any  salary  to 
support  you  on,  unless  I  can  get  a  civilian  ap 
pointment." 

"What's  that?"  said  Mr.  Levering, 
sharply.  "  I  thought  you  were  a  cadet  at 
West  Point." 

"  I  am,"  answered  Dusty.  "  But  I  shall  be 
expelled  for  absence  without  leave.  I  couldn't 
get  leave,  Amy  wouldn't  come  to  me,  nor  even 
read  my  letters,  so  I  came  to  her." 

The  old  man  worked  his  eyebrows  up  and 
down  as  he  sat  watching  the  young  man. 

"  So !     You    risked   dismissal   and   possibly 


The  Widow  Assists  191 

ruined  your  career  just  to  see  my  girl.  Was 
that  wise?" 

"No,  sir!" 

"  Well,  you're  both  young.  You  can  wait 
and  prove  your  mettle." 

"I'm  willing  to!" 

"  But  I'm  not,"  cried  Amy.  "  I  don't  want 
to  wait !  " 

"  You  don't,"  said  her  father,  tilting  her 
face  up  to  his.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  be  married  the  day  after  he 
graduates  and  have  a  big  military  wedding !  " 

"  When  I  was  a  boy  in  Akron,  Ohio,"  said 
the  old  man,  "  I  joined  the  village  band,  not 
because  I  was  musical,  but  so  that  I  could  wear 
the  uniform.  I  guess  Amy  inherits  my  love 
for  brass  buttons." 

"  It  is  barely  possible,"  I  said,  "  that  my 
husband  has  been  successful  in  averting  any 
bad  results  from  Mr.  Miller's  action.  He  went 
to  West  Point  last  night  to  intercede  for  him." 

"  Your  husband  did  that?  "  asked  Mr.  Lev 
ering.  "  Amy,  you  seem  to  have  made 
friends." 

Just  then  Aubrey  let  himself  in,  and  I  ran  to 
meet  him.  I  knew  by  his  face  that  his  quest 
had  been  in  vain. 

We  introduced  him  and  he  told  us  about  it. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  place  as  West  Point," 


192    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

said  the  Angel  wearily.  "  Influence,  talk,  ar 
guments,  threats,  anger,  rage,  sweetness,  tears, 
pleadings  —  all  in  vain.  You  are  up  against 
it  good  and  hard,  young  man." 

"  Did  you  see  Maj.  Faxon,  the  Superintend 
ent?"  asked  Dusty  dismally. 

"  I  did.  I  don't  care  for  him.  He's  not  an 
affable  acquaintance." 

"What  do  they  propose  to  do  to  him?" 
asked  Mr.  Levering. 

"  Court  martial  and  dismiss  him  is  the 
program  they  sketched  out  for  my  entertain 
ment." 

"  Well,  there's  this  to  be  said  for  Maj. 
Faxon.  He  is  a  sick  man.  He  has  asked  to 
be  retired  and  the  Retiring  Board  is  to  act 
next  week.  He  doesn't  feel  like  closing  his 
career  by  making  a  possible  mistake,"  said 
Dusty. 

"  Who  is  to  succeed  him?  "  I  asked. 

"  Maj.  Featherstone,"  said  Dusty. 

I  looked  at  Bee.  So  did  Aubrey.  So  did 
all  the  others,  just  because  we  did.  But  Bee 
never  blushes.  Her  eyes  change  colour. 

Then  a  faint  sound  made  itself  heard,  some 
thing  like  a  snicker.  I  have  since  wondered  if 
it  came  from  me,  for  I  was  the  only  one  who 
knew  of  both  facts  —  one,  of  Maj.  Feather- 
stone's  hopeless  but  none  the  less  interesting 


The  Widow  Assists  193 

passion  for  my  widowed  sister,  the  other  of 
Bee's  sub-cutaneous  reason  for  releasing  Laflin 
Van  Tassel  from  any  possible  interest  in 
Amy  Levering  by  marrying  her  to  another 
man. 

"  Maj.  Featherstone  is  in  town,"  said  Bee 
slowly.  "  He  is  at  the  New  Grand  Hotel. 
I  —  " 

"You  —  what?"  I  demanded  impatiently. 
I  forgot  that  Bee  might  hesitate  at  placing 
herself  under  obligations  to  Maj.  Feather- 
stone  by  asking  a  favour  of  him,  just  at  this 
stage  of  the  game,  but  I  might  have  known 
that  my  sister  plays  boldly  to  win. 

"  I  had  a  note  from  him  this  morning  say 
ing  that  —  that  he  had  important  news  for  me. 
It  might  mean  that  he  is  to  report  at  once.  In 
that  case  —  " 

"  There's  no  time  to  be  lost,"  said  Aubrey. 

"  I  might  telephone,"  said  Bee. 

I  escorted  her  to  the  telephone  so  promptly 
that  it  disturbed  her  dignity. 

It  seemed  ages  before  she  finished,  for  no 
one  who  has  not  tried  it,  knows  the  maddening 
delays  of  telephoning  to  any  New  York  hotel. 

Finally,  however,  she  came  back. 

"  Dusty,"  she  said,  "  you  are  in  clover. 
Maj.  Featherstone  has  been  appointed  Acting 
Superintendent,  and  he  says  for  you  to  ap- 


194    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

ply  for  five  days'  leave  —  beginning  yester 
day." 

Dusty's  incredulous  face  showed  how  mar 
vellous  must  have  been  Bee's  influence  to  have 
got  such  a  thing  through  the  frightful  red  tape 
of  West  Point. 

"  What  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Mrs.  Lathrop,  are 
you  sure?  " 

"  I  am  sure.  Maj.  Featherstone  will  be  at 
West  Point  to-morrow  morning.  If  I  were  in 
your  place  I'd  have  my  letter  there  to  greet 
him.  I  told  him  that  we  would  manage  Col. 
Mockridge." 

"  Oh,  John  is  all  right,"  said  Aubrey. 
"  When  he  discovered  that  Miller  was  really 
here,  he  was  on  our  side  in  a  minute." 

"Hum!"  said  Cyrus  Levering.  "Well, 
Amy,  you  certainly  are  blessed  with  influential 
friends."  Here  he  looked  at  Bee.  "  I'm  glad 
you  wrote  me  that  letter,  Mrs.  Lathrop,"  he 
added.  "  I  wouldn't  have  made  more  trouble 
for  these  young  people  for  anything." 

"What  letter?"  asked  Amy. 

"  Did  you  think  I  fell  into  your  young  man's 
arms  without  knowing  something  about  him 
and  his  family  and  his  record?  You  owe 
more  of  this  morning's  work  to  Mrs.  Lathrop 
than  you  realize,  Amy.  In  fact  I  may  say  that 


The  Widow  Assists  195 

without  her  efforts  in  your  behalf,  it  wouldn't 
have  been  done." 

"  Oh,   no,   Mr.   Levering,"   said   Bee  mod 
estly.    "  You  held  the  cards.    I  only  assisted." 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE    MARRIAGE    OF    PEARL    MARGUERITE 

JUST  then  occurred  an  upheaval  in  the 
domestic  economy  of  our  home,  which 
deserves  a  passing  mention. 

It  was  Pearl  Marguerite  of  course. 

Although  she  was  only  the  black  general 
housework  girl,  Pearl  Marguerite  had  her 
social  uses. 

I  discovered  them  one  evening  when  I  had 
Patricia  Marston  and  her  Englishman  to  din 
ner.  I  happened  to  call  her  by  name. 

"  Pearl  Marguerite,"  I  said,  "  please  hand 
me  the  red  pepper !  " 

Lord  Abernethy  gave  one  glance  into  her 
black,  black  face.  Then  he  laughed  loud  and 
long  and  the  American  joke  then  being  told 
made  quite  a  hit. 

But  I  knew  what  had  amused  him,  so  that 
during  all  the  rest  of  the  dinner,  whenever  it 
was  time  for  Abernethy  to  laugh,  I  called 
Pearl  Marguerite  by  name. 

Afterwards  everybody  said  he  was  the  first 
196 


Marriage  of  Pearl   Marguerite    197 

Englishman  they  ever  saw  who  could  appre 
ciate  our  kind  of  jokes. 

Pearl  Marguerite  was  one  of  the  most  com 
petent  servants  I  ever  saw.  She  did  all  the 
washing  and  ironing,  the  cooking,  cleaning, 
chamber  work  and  waiting,  yet  she  always 
seemed  to  have  plenty  of  time. 

I  went  into  the  kitchen  one  day  and  found 
her  leaning  so  far  out  of  the  window  that  she 
was  holding  on  by  hooking  her  toes  under  the 
edge  of  the  table  across  which  she  was  lying. 

"  Pearl  Marguerite,"  I  cried,  making  ready 
to  seize  her  by  her  ankle  in  case  I  startled  her. 
"  Do  be  careful.  It  is  nine  stones  to  the 
ground !  " 

She  humped  herself  back  and  stood  before 
me. 

"  I  wasn't  doin'  nothin',  Mis'  Jardine,"  she 
said. 

"  I  didn't  say  you  were,"  I  answered. 

She  gave  me  a  queer  look. 

"  I  came  to  tell  you  that  I  have  had  a  com 
plaint  made  against  you  by  the  servants  whose 
rooms  are  next  yours,"  I  said. 

The  servants'  quarters  in  our  apartment 
house  were  on  the  top  floor. 

"  Now  Mis'  Jardine,  don'  you  believe  all 
you  hear.  I  wasn't  doin'  nothin'  —  cep'  —  " 

"Except  what?" 


198    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  Well,  his  do'  was  open,  en  I  jes  thowed  a 
glass  ob  water  awn  him  when  he  was  asleep, 
en  in  de  scuffle  what  enshued  - 

"  Did  that  scuffle  take  place  in  his  room  ?  " 
I  demanded  sternly. 

"Naw'm!     In  de  hall!" 

"  Are  you  sure?  " 

"  In  cose  I  is  sho' !  After  thowin'  water 
awn  a  sleepin'  man,  wouldn't  anybody  run? 
Wouldn't  you  run  ef  you  done  it?  " 

Put  that  way  I  had  to  admit  that  possibly 
Pearl  Marguerite  was  right. 

"  Who  is  the  man?  "  I  asked. 

"  He's  de  butlah  awn  de  firs'  flo'." 

As  I  made  no  answer  she  added  for  further 
identification : 

"  He  walks  out  Sundays  wid  a  brindle  bull- 
dawg  wid  a  hob-na.il  collah.  Yallah  com 
plected  wid  a  big  di'mon'  in  his  shirt  front. 
A  real  dudish  lookin'  man." 

"  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  seen  him,"  I  said 
hastily.  "Are  you  engaged  to  him?" 

She  burst  out  laughing.  Now  a  laugh  with 
Pearl  Marguerite  was  not  a  drawing  room 
smile.  It  began  with  a  squeal  like  a  dog  whose 
tail  is  stepped  OP.  She  then  wrapped  her  arms 
around  her  waist  and  went  into  a  series  of 
internal  boilings,  during  which  time  she  bent 
double  and  writhed  as  if  in  the  grip  of  mortal 


Marriage  of  Pearl  Marguerite   199 

pain.  She  was  very  black  and  her  teeth  were 
of  an  abnormal  whiteness.  Seen  in  a  jungle, 
all  that  would  have  been  unnatural  about  Pearl 
Marguerite  would  have  been  her  white  apron. 

As  I  carefully  said  nothing  further  to  incite 
her  to  continue  laughing,  she  finally  stopped. 

"Well?"  I  said.  "Answer  me.  Are 
you?" 

She  turned  her  back  on  me  and  reached  up 
to  the  gas  meter  —  for  no  reason  at  all. 
-  — !"   she  mumbled. 

"  I  don't  hear  a  word.  Turn  around  here 
and  take  your  apron  out  of  your  mouth.  Now 
answer  me !  " 

"Well,  den,  I  is!" 

"  Has  he  given  you  a  ring?  " 

"  Naw'm.  He  gives  me  a  manicyohin' 
set,"  she  said  tapping  her  finger  tips  together 
coyly. 

"  A  manicuring  set !  What  are  you  going 
to  use  it  on  ?  The  cat's  claws  ?  " 

Seeing  from  the  contortions  she  immedi 
ately  went  into  that  I  was  not  likely  to  obtain 
any  further  information  from  her  in  the  next 
half  hour,  I  turned  and  went  out. 

As  I  got  into  the  elevator,  I  said  to  the  man, 
a  cinnamon-coloured  man,  whose  name  was 
Claude,  and  who  loved  adjectives : 

"What's  the  matter,  Claude?" 


2OO  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

He  was  dabbing  a  handkerchief  against  his 
mouth. 

"I  —  I  got  a  slight  toothache,  Mis'  Jar- 
dine." 

"  That's  too  bad,"  I  observed. 

"  Yas'm,"  he  said,  still  dabbing.  "  My  fo' 
front  teeth  are  somewhat  loose." 

"  I'm  sorry.  Have  you  heard  the  news 
about  Pearl  Marguerite?" 

To  my  surprise,  although  a  well  trained 
servant,  Claude  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  cried.  "Why 
should  everybody  laugh  at  the  idea  of  Pearl's 
engagement  ?  " 

"Do  she  say  she's  engaged?"  he  said. 
"Lawd!  Mis'  Jardine,  dat  gal's  enough  to 
kill  a  dawg  wid  her  engagement !  Why, 
Harol'  is  a  mah'ied  man !  " 

"  Married !  "  I  cried.  "  The  poor  girl 
doesn't  know  it.  Why  don't  some  of  you  tell 
her?" 

"Yas'm.    He!   He!    I  reckon  she  know  it." 

"  I'm  sure  she  doesn't,"  I  said  firmly. 

"  She  knows  some  gal  has  a  cinch  awn  him ! 
Mis'  Jardine,  you  'member  Sunday  evenin' 
along  'bout  six  o'clock,  you  rang  up  de  reah 
elevator  and  axed  Lorraine  to  go  to  de  top  flo' 
and  get  Pearl  Marguerite  foh  yo'  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  remember !  " 


Marriage  of  Pearl  Marguerite  20 1 

"  Well,  Lorraine,  he  never  went,  caze  we 
both  know  dat  Pearl  Marguerite  was  chasm' 
down  de  middle  ob  de  street  wid  yo'  bread 
knife  —  de  one  wid  de  crinkly  aidge —  in  huh 
han'  atter  Harold  en  a  yallah  gal  she  done 
see  outen  yo'  windah !  " 

"  Why  just  now,  she  —  "I  began  hastily. 
Then  I  stopped. 

"  Yas'm.  Well,  I  chased  atter  huh,  caze  I 
know  she'd  been  up  and  lighted  de  oven  en  I 
was  afraid  yo'  dinnah  would  burn  up.  I  cotch 
huh  over  awn  Columbus  Avenue,  en  I  said 
to  huh,  '  Come  awn  home  gal !  Don'  you 
know  you  done  lef  Mis'  Jardine's  leg  in  de 
oven  to  burn  up?  You'll  lose  yo'  place  ef  you 
don'  watch  out.'  But  I  couldn't  move  her. 
So  I  went  awn  home  and  cooked  dat  lamb 
myself  en  made  de  mint  sauce.  Pearl  Mar 
guerite  come  in  jes'  in  time  to  dish  it  up  en 
wait  awn  de  table." 

"  Was  Harold  with  his  wife?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  don'  know.  I  didn't  see  him.  Lorraine 
tol'  me." 

I  thought  over  the  situation  very  carefully. 
Pearl  Marguerite  was  only  eighteen  and  this 
was  her  first  year  in  New  York.  She  was 
alone,  her  family  all  living  in  Maryland. 
Finally  I  decided  that  I  must  have  a  talk  with 
her. 


2O2   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Several  days  passed  and  one  morning  she 
broke  the  news  to  me  that  she  was  going  to 
get  married,  and  on  Monday.  She  only  told 
me  on  Thursday,  so  the  time  was  short. 

I  began  diffidently,  because  I  really  knew 
nothing.  It  was  only  hear-say,  but  the  giggles 
of  the  elevator  men  and  Pearl  Marguerite's 
spirited  defiances  were  wafted  to  me  through 
the  swinging  doors,  and  I  felt  sure  that  some 
thing  was  wrong. 

After  telling  her  she  ought  not  to  be  in  such 
a  hurry  and  asking  her  what  she  knew  about 
Harold,  I  wound  up  with : 

"  Now,  I  am  not  saying  one  word  about  the 
man.  He  is  probably  all  right.  Only  you 
ought  to  ask  his  friends  and  find  out.  Be  sure 
about  him.  How  do  you  know,  for  instance, 
but  that  there  is  some  girl  already  claiming 
him!" 

"  Has  anybody  been  talkin'  to  you  about 
Harol'?"  demanded  the  girl. 

"  Now,  who  would  be  likely  to  talk  to  a 
white  lady  about  a  coloured  man's  private 
affairs?  I'm  only  talking  to  you  like  this, 
because  your  mother  is  not  here  to  say  the 
same  things.  She  would  talk  to  you  just  this 
way  if  you  could  see  her.  I'm  only  doing  it 
to  keep  you  from  being  fooled.  Now  you  can 
go  ahead  and  do  as  you  please.  I've  done  my 


Marriage  of  Pearl  Marguerite  203 

duty  by  you.  Your  own  mother  couldn't 
give  you  any  better  advice." 

"  Naw'm,  she  couldn',"  said  Pearl  Margue 
rite. 

I  told  her  what  I  would  give  her  for  a 
wedding  present  and  she  thanked  me,  and  said 
she  would  think  over  what  I  had  said. 

But  on  Sunday  she  said  she  had  decided 
to  go  ahead  with  her  plans  and  get  married 
the  next  day.  We  all  gave  her  presents  and 
left  her  standing  waiting  for  the  rear  elevator 
to  take  her  down. 

But  I  had  no  sooner  closed  the  door  than 
I  remembered  something  I  wanted  to  ask  her. 
The  car  was  slowly  descending  as  I  opened 
the  door  and  these  words  came  up  quite 
clearly : 

"  She  said  my  maw  would  'a'  said  de  same 
tings,  but  my  maw  said  to  me :  '  Pearl,  ef  you 
ever  gets  a  chance  wid  a  likely  man,  don'  ask 
no  fool  questions  about  his  pas',  caze  I  knowed 
a  sassy  gal  what  done  dat  once  an'  she  los'  de 
fellah  en  a  yallah  woman  got  him ! ' 

I  decided  not  to  ask  Pearl  Marguerite  what 
she  had  done  with  her  key. 

For  five  days  the  girl  Pearl  Marguerite  had 
got  to  take  her  place  did  our  work.  On  the 
sixth  to  my  surprise  I  found  Pearl  getting 
lunch. 


204    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"Why,  Pearl  Marguerite!"  I  exclaimed. 

She  turned  a  beaming  face  on  me.  One 
front  tooth  was  gone  and  her  left  eye  was 
swollen  nearly  shut. 

"  I  done  come  back !  "  she  said. 

"So  I . see.  Well,  tell  me  about  the  wed 
ding.  Was  it  nice?" 

"  Yas'm.  Hit  sho'  was.  We  went  to  de 
preacher's  house  and  got  mah'ied.  Den  we 
come  awn  up  to  my  sistah's  en  she  give  me  a 
fine  deception.  She  gimmie  a  white  cake  wid 
icin'  awn  it,  en  as  de  gues'  come  in  she  stood 
at  de  do'  en  sprayed  'em  wid  'furriery  out  ob 
one  ob  dese  yere  matanizers  —  you  know  de 
kin'  -  -  you  squeezes  de  rubber  ball  and  gets  a 
squirt  ob  cologne  en  yo'  face?" 

"  I  have  seen  them,"  I  said  faintly.  "  It 
must  have  been  very  nice." 

"  Harol'  say  hit  took  de  rag  right  off  de 
bush,"  said  his  wife,  rearing  her  head  proudly. 

"Where  is  Harold?"  I  asked. 

"  He's  back  in  his  ol'  place  downstairs  awn 
de  firs'  flo'." 

She  put  her  hand  to  her  swollen  eye,  which 
evidently  pained  her. 

'  Who  knocked  your  tooth  out  and  gave 
you  that  black  eye?  " 

"  Harol' !  "  she  said  with  another  grin. 

"  He  did!    And  yet  you  still  like  him?  " 


Marriage  of  Pearl  Marguerite  205 

Although  ordinarily  quite  respectful,  Pearl 
Marguerite,  elated  by  her  recent  experiences, 
gave  me  such  a  nudge  with  her  elbow  that  she 
knocked  me  against  the  ice  box. 

"  Jal-'ous !  "  she  cried  in  a  voice  of  triumph. 

For  a  moment  I  struggled  silently  with  my 
emotions.  Then  I  said  sternly: 

'  That's  a  nice  way  to  show  jealousy.  To 
half  kill  a  woman." 

"  Hit's  de  white  blood  in  him,"  declared 
his  wife.  "  A  coal  black  niggah  is  all  niggah, 
en  you  can  count  awn  him.  But  dese  yere 
yellah  people,  wid  jes'  enough  white  blood  in 
'em  to  mek  'em  feel  dey's  ez  good  ez  white 
folks  en  what  ack  lake  white  folks  —  den  you 
get  de  debble !  " 

"  I  came  in,"  I  said  hastily,  "  to  tell  you  to 
make  a  mayonnaise !  " 

"  Yas'm." 

As  I  turned  to  go  out,  Pearl  Marguerite 
said  in  a  voice  replete  with  satisfied  ambition : 

"  Ise  a  bride,  Mis'  Jardine!  " 

I  hastily  shut  the  door  and  left  the  bride 
washing  dishes. 

When  I  told  Jimmie  about  her,  he  invited 
himself  to  dinner  three  evenings  in  succession 
and  choked  so  often  that  Pearl  Marguerite  to 
this  day  hovers  near  him  whenever  he  eats, 


206    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

expecting  to  be  called  upon  to  slap  him  on  the 
back  to  bring  him  to  life. 

She  told  me  she  thought  the  reason  he 
choked  so  often  was  because  he  didn't  "  know 
how  to  swaller  good!  " 


CHAPTER   XIII 

IN    SEARCH    OF   A    HUSBAND 

ALTHOUGH  I  said  nothing  to  Aubrey 
of  my  philanthropic  plans  with  re 
gard  to  helping  Bee  in  her  affair  with 
Laflin,  my  chagrin  may  be  imagined  when,  a 
few  days  later,  he  looked  at  me  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye  and  said : 

"  Well,  I  am  sure  we  could  manage  it !  " 

"  Manage  what  ?  "  I  flared  out,  on  the  de 
fensive  instantly. 

"  To  include  Van  Tassel  in  our  party  for 
New  Haven!" 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  I  never  thought  of 
such  a  thing!  It's  mean  of  you  to  see  through 
me  like  that !  "  I  stormed. 

He  came  over  to  me. 

"  Don't  be  vexed  at  me,  little  woman !  Who 
wouldn't  know  when  your  eyes  fairly  devour 
Bee  every  time  you  see  her  and  when  the  con 
versation  between  you  two  ever  since  we  were 
at  Coolmeath  has  inevitably  led  to  his  name? 
Don't  I  know,  from  past  experience,  that  you 
have  actually  built  on  New  Haven,  and  if  that 
207 


208    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

can't  be  managed,  you  have  thought  gratefully 
of  your  genius  at  dinner  giving?  " 

"  I'd  as  soon  be  married  to  a  Pinkerton  de 
tective  as  to  you !  "  I  cried.  "  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  watch  me  so !  " 

"  I  find  all  my  joy  in  life  in  observing  your 
slightest  action,"  said  the  Angel,  with  such  a 
look  that  I  descended  from  my  high  horse  in 
stantly  and  a  description  of  the  next  few  mo 
ments  would  be  a  bore  to  any  but  just  us  two. 

"Do  you  want  him  invited?"  asked  Au 
brey. 

"  I  would  like  it  if  you  could  manage  it," 
I  said. 

"  1?  " 

"  Yes,  it  would  look  far  less  marked  coming 
from  you." 

"  Why  are  you  taking  so  much  trouble?  If 
a  man  wants  a  woman  he  always  finds  a  way 
to  get  her." 

"  The  ordinary  woman,  yes.  But  think  how 
horribly  Bee  has  always  been  misunderstood. 
And  remember  how  public  sympathy  always 
went  with  James,  because  of  his  godliness 
and  because  of  the  conventions  which  bid  a 
woman  stay  at  home  even  if  her  husband  beats 
her  every  night.  Laflin  doesn't  know  Bee  - 
that's  the  whole  trouble." 


In  Search  of  a  Husband      209 

"  Then  he  shall  get  to  know  her,"  said  Au 
brey  decidedly.  "  I  think  he  would  like  to  like 
her  —  that  he  would  fairly  enjoy  letting  him 
self  go." 

"  Oh,  you  darling,"  I  cried.  "  That's  just 
the  way  I  feel  about  it.  /  believe  he's  afraid 
of  her!  He  is  rather  simple  and  undeveloped 
and  Bee  always  strikes  everyone  as  being  — 
well  —  finished,  so  to  speak!  " 

So  it  was  all  settled  and  I  gave  the  matter 
no  further  thought. 

How  Bee  managed  to  hold  her  to  it,  I  don't 
know,  but  Lyddy  actually  did  invite  our  whole 
party  to  go  as  her  guests.  It  was  too  cold  for 
motors,  therefore  we  went  on  the  train,  a 
merry,  excited,  nervous  but  happy  family. 
And  in  addition  to  the  Jimmies,  Lyddy,  Bee 
and  Bob  Mygatt,  we  had  brought  Mrs.  Keep, 
the  Munsons  and  Laflin  Van  Tassel. 

Now  the  style  of  conversation  of  these  four 
new  comers  into  our  ranks  is  worth  mention 
ing. 

Munson  is  far  and  away  the  most  fluent 
as  well  as  the  most  elegant  talker  we  know. 
Slang  knows  him  not.  He  dips  deep  into  the 
well  of  perfect  English,  pure  and  undefiled,  and 
reels  off  hours  of  monologue  which  holds  us 
entranced,  gaping  and  appreciative,  wonder- 


2IO  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

ing  where  he  got  it  all,  but  satisfied  to  keep 
silent  and  let  him  hold  the  floor. 

And  it  is  well  that  this  is  the  case  most  of 
the  time,  for  any  attempt  on  our  part  to  join  in 
his  monologue,  to  vary  it  by  a  making  of  it  a 
duet  or  a  trio,  annoys  Munson.  If  we  inter 
rupt  he  waves  us  back  by  his  hand.  If  we  per 
sist,  he  gets  sulky. 

Still,  Munson  sometimes  bore  interrup 
tions,  not  gracefully,  but  without  positive 
rudeness.  But  his  eyes  would  flash  interroga 
tively  at  the  others  to  see  if  their  impatience 
to  hear  him  continue  matched  his  own,  and 
one  could  always  tell  by  the  nervous  rotary 
motion  of  his  long  and  intelligent  foot,  that  he 
would  not  brook  the  interloper  long.  And  the 
gently  forbearing  manner  in  which  he  took 
up  the  thread  of  his  conversation,  with  a  child 
like  faith  in  our  having  been  bored  by  the  in 
terruption  equally  with  himself,  made  an  even 
ing  with  Munson  a  succession  of  emotions, 
which  ran  the  gamut  from  delighted  admira 
tion  to  the  compassion  one  would  feel  for  a 
confiding  child,  whose  faith  in  the  world  has 
never  been  shaken. 

Having  travelled  a  great  deal  and  being  pos 
sessed  of  a  rich  imagination,  a  sense  of 
humour  and  some  delicacy  of  feeling,  Mun 
son  had  assimilated  his  material  from  every 


In  Search  of  a  Husband      211 

source  he  had  thus  encountered,  and  he  was 
equally  gifted  with  pen  as  with  tongue. 

But  he  possessed  as  well  the  delicate  un 
balance,  to  put  it  mildly,  which  afflicts  all 
genius,  and  this  was  particularly  apparent 
when  the  cup  that  cheers  was  pressed  to  his 
willing  lips.  On  one  drink,  Munson  expanded. 
On  two  he  exaggerated.  On  three  he  lied. 
But  lied  with  such  fluency,  such  imagination, 
such  glorious  potency  of  seeming  truth,  that  he 
never  could  count  on  being  invited  to  stop 
after  one.  The  other  two  were  always  click 
ing  at  his  elbow  and  his  audience  was  smiling 
and  anticipatory  around  him. 

Eleanor  Munson,  his  wife,  seldom  spoke  at 
such  times,  but  sat  looking  at  him  with  the 
look  a  wife  reserves  for  a  husband  who  grows 
expansive  on  three. 

Equally  interesting,  equally  persistent  but 
much  more  modest,  was  Mrs.  Keep's  habit  of 
converse.  She  never  took  the  initiatory  as 
Munson  always  expressed  willingness  to  do. 
She  never  interrupted.  She  never  demanded 
an  exploitation  of  her  views,  unless  you  asked 
her.  Then  if  you  did,  you  had  to  listen.  Mrs. 
Keep  was  exceedingly  matter-of-fact.  Having 
been  invited  to  express  her  opinion,  she  firmly 
believed  you  wanted  to  hear  it,  and  hear  it  you 
must,  if  it  took  all  day ! 


212    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Now  Mrs.  Keep  was  not  quick  in  speech. 
To  tell  the  truth  she  was  mortally  slow,  and 
in  our  rapid,  telegraphic  style,  the  Happy 
Family  often  supplied  her  hesitating  tongue 
with  the  word  for  which  she  groped,  or  an 
ticipated  her  meaning  with  an  eager  reply  to 
her  as  yet  unspoken  words.  Vain  were  we  to 
think  that  we  could  hurry  her.  Her  conversa 
tion  was  like  a  serial  which  is  paid  for  by  the 
word.  It  was  longer  than  the  tactics  of  the 
story  demanded.  But  you  had  to  take  it  all. 
You  couldn't  get  on  with  the  story  because  the 
next  number  wasn't  out.  If  you  interrupted 
her,  she  simply  went  back  and  began  over, 
without  any  irritation,  any  hurry  or  any 
noise. 

Did  you  ever  try  to  shut  the  cat  out  of  the 
house  on  a  summer  evening  and  have  her 
come  in  at  the  back  door?  Then  if  you  put  her 
out  again,  the  window  did  very  nicely,  thanks. 
Again  she  is  placed  on  the  mat  and  she  comes 
up  from  the  cellar.  Finally  you  put  her  out 
for  the  night  and  lock  up,  and  just  as  you  go 
to  turn  out  the  light,  you  see  her  stealing  down 
from  the  attic,  whither  she  had  attained  no 
one  on  earth  knows  how,  but  with  the  ex 
pression  on  her  face  of,  "  I  know  you  made  a 
mistake  to  put  me  out.  You  really  wanted  me, 
so  here  I  am !  " 


In  Search  of  a  Husband       213 

That  is  the  gentle  persistence  and  tactful 
pertinacity  of  Mrs.  Keep's  conversation  when 
you  have  asked  for  her  views. 

Ava  Corliss,  while  saying  little,  always  man 
aged  to  make  us  self-conscious.  We  always 
felt  that  it  would  be  better  for  us  if  we  each 
had  a  Mission  in  Life.  But  we  don't  want 
to  have  Missions.  We  jog  along,  amusing 
ourselves  and  doing  what  good  we  can,  but  we 
hate  to  talk  about  our  virtues  or  feel  them. 
The  well-clad  Christian  is  the  one  whose  vir 
tues  fit  him  to  such  perfection  that  he  is  able  to 
forget  all  about  them.  The  Christian  who  is 
forever  talking  about  the  set  of  his  halo  be 
longs  to  the  spiritually  nouveau  riche. 

Ava  disapproved  of  Bob's  drinking  and 
smoking  and  wouldn't  go  automobiling  on 
Sunday.  She  also  thought  a  cold  supper  was 
the  acme  of  Christian  hospitality  on  the  Sab 
bath,  and  looked  askance  at  us  because  we  had 
a  hot  dinner  and  dressed  for  it  as  on  week 
days.  And  because  of  these  things,  Ava's 
contributions  to  our  conversations  were  the 
reverse  of  hilarious. 

I  pass  lightly  over  the  fact  that  she  had  no 
sense  of  humour,  because  Mrs.  Jimmie  had  less 
than  none,  yet  she  was  a  darling  and  we  all 
adored  her. 

No,  Ava  Corliss  appeared  to  regard  herself 


214  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

as  a  Shining  Example  and  it  was  evident  that 
she  had  set  herself  to  reform  Bob  Mygatt. 

It  was  a  good  thing  she  was  pretty. 

Laflin  Van  Tassel  was  also  so  good  to  look 
at  that  it  really  made  no  difference  to  me  what 
he  thought  or  said.  My  scalp  was  hanging 
from  his  belt  from  the  moment  he  joined  our 
party,  as  he  so  plainly  showed  his  appreciation 
of  my  Angel,  his  delicate  habit  of  thought  and 
his  work. 

Munson  didn't  like  him.    He  said  : 

"  Van  Tassel  is  not  my  idea  of  a  com 
panionable  man." 

"What?"  I  said.  "Doesn't  he  sit  silent 
and  listen  to  you  by  the  hour  ?  What  more  do 
you  want  of  a  companion  ?  " 

"  Ah,"  said  Munson,  eager  to  set  me  right 
on  a  delicate  point  like  that,  "  you  seem  to  for 
get  that  there  are  listeners  and  listeners. 
Some  listen  receptively.  Others  shed  the 
stream  of  ideas  which  pours  over  them,  leaving 
themselves  quite  dry.  Now  Van  Tassel,  while 
outwardly  all  that  is  polite  and  courteous,  de 
flects  all  I  say.  He  doesn't  —  " 

"  I  know  what  you  mean.  He  doesn't  sop 
it  up!" 

"  He  doesn't  absorb  it,"  Munson  corrected 
me  delicately. 

"  And  don't  you  know  why?  "  I  asked  curi- 


In  Search  of  a  Husband      215 

ously,  for  with  all  Munson's  intelligence  I  am 
sometimes  so  surprised  to  see  him  overlook  a 
psychological  fact  like  the  one  he  complained 
of. 

"  No.     Is  there  any  reason  ?  " 

"  A  very  decided  one.  Your  habit  of 
thought  and  Laflin  Van  Tassel's  are  as  widely 
separated  as  the  poles.  Your  reasoning  is  al 
ways  materialistic,  his  is  spiritual.  You  are 
a  pagan,  without  a  God  or  a  religion.  He  has 
a  code  of  Christian  ethics  which  beautifies  his 
whole  life.  You  believe  in  hate  and  revenge. 
He  is  none  of  your  orthodox  Christians,  who 
subscribe  to  worn  out  creeds  and  rituals,  you 
understand.  He  simply,  as  you  say,  sheds  all 
false  beliefs,  false  ethics,  false  reasoning  and 
pantheistic  philosophy." 

"  That,  then,  is  one  reason  I  don't  like  him," 
said  Munson.  "  Another  is  that  he  is  at  all 
times  so  hopelessly  and,  to  me,  obnoxiously, 
well  dressed.  I  don't  care  for  perfectly  got  up 
men.  The  contrast  between  them  and  myself 
is  too  humiliating.  And  I  am  a  proud 
man!" 

His  big,  serious  brown  eyes  twinkled,  and  I 
laughed. 

On  the  night  of  Bob's  play,  however,  all 
these  differences  of  opinion  were  forgotten. 

It  is  difficult  to  argue  from  a  try-out  in  New 


216  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Haven,  because  the  boys  are  so  enthusiastic. 
You  feel  as  if  you  are  in  for  a  two  years'  run 
in  New  York.  But,  to  some  of  us  the  air  that 
night  seemed  electric  with  foreboding. 

I  kept  looking  about  through  the  audience 
as  if  trying  to  find  some  one  who  was  watch 
ing  me.  I  couldn't  enjoy  the  play,  foolish  and 
therefore  successful  as  it  seemed. 

Ava  Corliss,  as  Allie  Gayter  looked  lovely 
and  sang  bewitchingly.  Bob  paced  the  narrow 
space  behind  our  box  and  gnawed  his  nails 
with  the  sick  stomach  and  light  head  which 
every  first  nighter  knows.  His  usually  ruddy 
face  was  a  pale  green  and  he  wobbled  on  his 
legs. 

Poor  fellow!  Didn't  I  just  know  how  he 
felt! 

We  tried  to  cheer  him  up  between  acts,  but 
we  couldn't  manage  it. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Bob?"  I  said. 
"  Can't  you  smile  and  make  us  feel  welcome? 
You  act  as  if  the  avenging  angel  were  on  your 
track." 

He  started  and  gave  me  a  quick  glance 
which  sent  the  cold  shivers  down  my  back. 

"  I  hate  this  damned  town !  "  he  cried.  "  It 
always  gives  me  the  blues  to  come  here!  I 
knew  it  would  be  like  this!  " 

I  started  in  to  comfort  him,  when  suddenly 


In  Search  of  a  Husband       217 

a  thought  struck  me,  and  I  turned  my  head 
away  for  fear  that  Bob  should  read  my  face. 

Yet  after  the  second  act,  Bob  disappeared, 
and  to  the  vociferous  calls  for  "  author," 
"  author,"  the  manager,  flushed  and  annoyed, 
was  obliged  to  say  that  the  author  was  not  in 
the  house. 

This  evidently  disappointed  the  college  boys 
in  the  audience,  for  we  could  imagine  just  how 
much  a  favourite  a  fellow  like  Bob  would  be. 
Things  quieted  down  after  that  and  they 
didn't  even  give  the  Yale  yell.  Which  did 
seem  queer. 

What  was  the  matter  with  everybody  and 
everything  ? 

After  the  play  was  over,  we  determined  to 
liven  things  up  a  little.  We  got  Ava  and  pre 
pared  to  be  our  dear  Lyddy's  guests.  Which, 
as  Jimmie  said,  was  "  something  which  could 
not  be  overcome  at  once.  It  must  be  lived 
down." 

But  nobody  could  have  done  anything  with 
the  awful  incongruities  in  our  party. 

To  be  sure  Bob  cheered  up  a  little,  but 
Lyddy  was  rendered  perfectly  waspish  by  see 
ing  Bob's  devotion  to  Ava  and  his  pride  in 
her  success. 

Lyddy's  manner  grew  more  and  more  nerv 
ous,  her  tongue  more  and  more  peppery. 


218    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Ava  was  near-sighted  and  once  in  a  while, 
wore  glasses.  For  some  reason  she  had  them 
on  at  supper  that  night  and  it  was  the  first  time 
Lyddy  had  noticed  them. 

She  looked  the  girl  over  critically  and  then 
said: 

"  How  glasses  spoil  one's  looks !  With  lit 
erary  people  one  doesn't  mind  them,  but  on  a 
girl  who  has  nothing  to  depend  on  but  her 
face,  it  really  is  a  pity,  isn't  it?  " 

Ava  only  smiled  and  took  her  glasses  off, 
and  because  she  had  failed  to  annoy  Ava, 
Lyddy  said  nasty  things  to  each  of  us  in  turn 
until  she  came  to  Bob. 

Something  had  been  said  about  the  money 
to  be  made  out  of  a  good  play  and  Bob 
said: 

"  I  care  not  for  the  necessities  of  life.  Give 
me  the  luxuries.  I'll  be  perfectly  satisfied  not 
to  have  all  the  bread  and  butter  I  need,  if  my 
play  will  only  give  me  an  automobile!  " 

Then  came  Lyddy's  masterpiece. 

'You  needn't  wait  a  day  for  that!"  she 
said.  "  I  will  give  you  an  automobile  to-mor 
row  on  just  one  condition !  " 

In  a  flash  Bob  knew  she  was  in  earnest,  and 
being  himself  an  ardent  disciple  of  Graft,  he 
said: 

"  Name  it,  dear  lady !  " 


In  Search  of  a  Husband      219 

"  That  you  will  never  take  any  other 
woman  in  it,  except  me!  " 

Jimmie  said  he  didn't  get  the  vinegar  out 
of  his  windpipe  for  a  week. 

We  all  pretended  that  we  had  dropped 
things,  and  as  we  fumbled  on  the  floor,  Bob 
and  Lyddy  faced  each  other  across  the  festal 
board,  watched  in  a  tense  silence  by  Ava  Cor 
liss. 

The  rest  of  us  drew  together  at  one  end  of 
the  table,  where,  as  Jimmie  said,  we  were  "  out 
of  harm's  way." 

Then  Bob  drew  Ava's  hand  under  his  arm 
saying : 

"  Such  a  gift  would  be  useless  to  me,  oh, 
sweetest  and  most  generous  of  young  women, 
as  I  am  going  to  marry  this  dear  girl  —  unless 
she  refuses  me  on  account  of  my  poverty." 

To  my  astonishment,  Lyddy  smiled  —  a 
smile  of  grim  determination,  which  caused 
Ava  to  rear  her  head  proudly  and  Bob  to  drop 
his  eyes,  and  switch  the  conversation.  He  got 
up  and  walked  to  the  window  and  Ava  and 
Lyddy  followed  him. 

"  Somehow,  though  anybody  can  see  it 
isn't  Bob's  fault,  the  whole  thing  is  rather 
sickening,"  I  said,  in  an  undertone  to  our  end 
of  the  table. 

"Not  Bob's  fault?"  murmured  the  Angel. 


22O   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"If  ever  there  was  encouragement  in  a  look, 
it  was  in  the  one  he  gave  Lyddy  when  he  told 
her  he  was  going  to  marry  Ava!  " 

"  With  her  hand  in  his !  "  I  cried,  shocked. 

"  Isn't  Lyddy  a  vicious  old  devil !  "  observed 
Jimmie  in  a  genial  tone  of  general  conversa 
tion.  "  Did  you  hear  her  tell  me  that  no 
woman  who  loved  jewels  as  much  as  my  wife 
does,  ever  married  as  rich  a  man  as  I  am  for 
love?  I  could  smash  her  map  for  her!  " 

"  You  needn't  take  the  trouble  to  utter  such 
words  even  in  fun,"  said  Laflin  Van  Tassel. 
"  That  poor  woman,  hating,  as  she  seems  to 
do,  every  living  creature,  —  even  you,  her 
friends,  carries  her  punishment  with  her  every 
hour  that  she  lives,  and  is  deserving  of  your 
profoundest  sympathy.  Just  think  of  the 
misery  of  her  thought !  Never  a  kind  or  gen 
erous  word  or  deed,  which  has  not  herself  for 
a  beneficiary.  And  not  a  tolerant  thought 
going  out  to  her  in  her  loneliness  from  anyone 
on  earth.  It  strikes  me  that  with  all  her 
money  —  and  I've  been  poor  long  enough  to 
know  the  value  of  it  —  Miss  Lathrop  is  the 
most  pitiable  object  I  ever  have  seen." 

"  By  Jove!  "  said  Jimmie.  "  You  are  right! 
I  never  thought  of  the  poor  old  critter  in  that 
light  before,  but  it  is  quite  true.  Not  a  living 


In  Search  of  a  Husband      221 

soul  in  this  world  but  hates  her.  Think  of 
it!" 

"  I  have  thought  of  it  often,"  said  Mrs. 
Jimmie  quietly.  "  What  she  needs  is  a  little 
love." 

"  Well,  you  try  and  offer  it  to  her  and  you 
are  liable  to  get  your  face  slapped,"  said 
Jimmie.  "  Love  and  Lyddy  Lathrop,  in 
deed  !  " 

He  looked  at  Bee,  and  added : 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  learn  to  love  our 
dear  Lyddy  during  the  term  you  are  sentenced 
for?" 

Bee  shot  him  a  strange  look. 

"  It  will  not  be  a  full  sentence,"  she  said. 
"  You  know  even  a  convict  gets  some  time 
off  for  good  behaviour." 

Laflin  Van  Tassel  gave  her  a  plainly  ap 
proving  look,  and  Jimmie  was  on  the  verge 
of  understanding  that  something  was  going 
on,  when  the  door  opened. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

IN    WHICH    BOB    MAKES    A    PROPOSAL    OF 
MARRIAGE 

DTD  you  ever  drive  a  family  horse  on  a 
lazy  summer  morning  with  such  list- 
lessness  and  loose  reins  that  when  he 
suddenly  shied  at  a  tin  can  and  ran  away,  you 
were  dumped  out  on  the  roadside,  dazed  and 
speechless  and  so  sat  there,  just  watching  his 
cloud  of  dust  and  not  even  trying  to  do  any 
thing? 

Well,  when  the  door  opened  and  in  walked 
a  man,  a  woman  and  a  child,  it  did  not  need 
more  than  one  glance  into  the  child's  face, 
which  was  Bob's  in  miniature,  for  us  all  to 
know  that  at  last  we  were  in  the  presence  of 
the  Reason  for  everything. 

Yet  strange  to  say,  Bob  looked  more  appre 
hensively  at  the  man  than  at  the  other  two,  and 
the  first  words  he  uttered  were : 

"Well,  Shupe!" 

Shupe  held  out  a  roll  of  music  MS.  and 
said : 

"  Would   you   like   to   see  the   original   of 


Bob  Makes  a   Proposal        223 

your  play  to-night,  Mr.  Mygatt,  author  and 
composer  of  the  now  famous  musical  comedy, 
entitled  The  Alligator  Pear  Tree?" 

Bob  shook  his  head,  whereat  Mr.  Shupe 
handed  the  MS.  to  Laflin,  who  took  it,  looked 
at  it  and  flung  it  open  on  the  table. 

As  for  Ava,  she  was  staring  in  a  fascinated 
silence  at  the  child,  who  clung  to  his  mother's 
hand  and  half  hid  behind  her  skirts.  The 
woman's  face  was  contemptuous  and  cynical 
and  she  seemed  to  have  been  drawn  into  the 
affair  by  Shupe,  for  she  kept  her  eyes  on  him 
and  waited  for  him  to  speak. 

Only  Mrs.  Keep,  Mrs.  Jimmie  and  I  were  at 
all  upset  by  the  situation.  Munson  and 
Eleanor  continued  to  smoke  their  cigarettes, 
elbows  on  the  table,  and  to  smile  inscrutably. 
Jimmie  and  Aubrey  drew  together  and  looked 
rather  white.  Laflin  and  Bee  exchanged 
glances,  while  Bob  turned  frankly  to  — 

Lyddy! 

Lyddy's  face  was,  after  all,  the  most  worth 
looking  at,  for  here  she  was,  a  homeless,  lonely 
old  maid,  at  the  eleventh  hour  plainly  in  the 
running  for  the  hand  of  a  young  and  agreeable 
bachelor,  fascinating,  but  so  hopelessly  dis 
graced  that  hereafter  decent  people  must  per 
force  shun  him,  wherefore  he  would  be  all 
the  more  hers  and  hers  alone. 


224    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Her  face,  as  these  thoughts  struck  her,  was 
a  study  in  the  passion  of  cupidity,  exultant 
malice  and  —  yes  —  an  honest  affection  — 
love,  if  you  want  to  call  it  that,  —  for  our 
poor,  graceless,  disgraced  but  still  interesting 
Bobbie ! 

'Shupe,  noticing  that  Ava's  eyes  were  round 
with  horror  at  the  sight  of  Bob's  lineaments 
in  the  face  of  the  child,  spoke  out  in  a  voice 
of  anguish : 

"Aval"  he  said.     "Aval" 

Slowly  she  looked  at  him. 

"  Will  you  believe  me  now!  Will  you  be 
lieve,  not  only  that  he  stole  my  play,  my  poor 
play  that  I  worked  four  years  on,  but  that  he 
has  stolen  your  love  ?  Yes,  stolen  it !  He  be 
longs  to  this  woman,  who,  as  you  all  can  see, 
and  as  the  Munsons  have  known  for  three 
years,  is  the  mother  of  his  child !  " 

Jimmie  started-  so  at  this  announcement 
that  he  dropped  hot  ashes  on  his  hand  and 
said: 

"  Ouch!  "  in  a  very  upsetting  way. 

But  the  Munsons  only  nodded  in  corrobora- 
tion  of  Shupe's  assertion  and  seemed  to  feel 
neither  responsibility  nor  much  interest  in  the 
affair. 

Dear  Mrs.  Keep  was  furtively  wiping  her 


Bob  Makes  a  Proposal        225 

eyes  and  trying  not  to  look  at  anybody  —  it 
was  all  so  very  embarrassing! 

"  If  you  had  only  believed  me,  Ava,  dear," 
Shupe  went  on,  with  such  a  fine  disregard  of 
his  audience,  that  I  could  not  help  admiring 
him,  for  we  are  a  disconcerting  set  of  listeners 
even  for  a  series  of  plain  facts,  let  alone 
a  love  story  and  a  heart  tragedy  like  this,  but 
Shupe  was  so  very  simple,  he  did  not  know, 
and  so  he  shamed  us  —  "I  never  would  have 
been  driven  to  this.  I  let  him  steal  my  songs 
without  a  word,  because  you  were  to  sing 
them  and  because  they  were  originally  written 
to  exploit  your  dear  voice  —  " 

"  But  he  paid  you  for  them  afterward, 
Roger,"  said  Ava,  very  pale,  but  still  just  and 
fair. 

"  Not  one  cent,  dearest.  If  he  told  you  he 
did,  it  was  just  another  of  his  lies." 

"  No,  no!  "  I  cried.  "  He  did  pay  you!  I 
—  I  happen  to  know  that  he  did !  " 

Shupe  smiled. 

"  Just  because  your  dear  husband  lent  him 
the  money  to  do  it,  Mrs.  Jardine,  do  you  be 
lieve  that  I  got  it?  He  probably  spent  it  on 
some  other  woman !  " 

Just  here  Lyddy  clutched  her  belt,  "  for  all 
the  world,"  as  Jimmie  said  afterward,  "  as  if 


226  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

she  had  been  struck  with  the  stomach  ache," 
and  we  then  saw  that  the  Jardines  had  uncon 
sciously  and  accidentally  made  her  a  present  of 
an  amethyst  belt  buckle! 

I  could  not  resist  giving  Bob  one  wither 
ing  glance,  but  to  my  disgust,  his  blue  Irish 
eyes  were  actually  twinkling  with  the  exquisite 
humour  of  the  thing.  I  never  saw  such  a 
man  as  Bob  Mygatt!  You  couldn't  shame 
him  to  save  your  life.  There  was  no  decency 
in  him  to  shame! 

Then  Shupe  turned  his  attention  to  Bob, 
who  laid  down  his  cigar,  folded  his  hands  and 
prepared  to  give  his  whole  attention  to  the 
speaker. 

"  Bob  Mygatt,"  he  said,  "  it  is  quite  useless 
to  say  one  word  to  you.  You  know  what  you 
have  done  better  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us. 
You  remember  the  day  I  brought  this  MS.  to 
you  and  you  volunteered  to  try  to  get  it  before 
some  manager  for  me.  You  said  that  my  idea 
of  a  comedy  written  on  the  day  of  creation, 
with  all  the  animals  talking  and  the  scene  the 
Garden  of  Eden,  was  very  original  and  taking. 
Well,  it  tt'aj  taking.  You  took  it,  re-wrote 
parts  of  it,  changed  its  name  to  The  Alligator 
Pear  Tree  and  produced  it  as  your  own.  You 
thought  because  I  seemed  a  poor-spirited  chap, 
that  you  could  bluff  me  out  of  it,  but  what 


Bob  Makes  a  Proposal        227 

you  did  not  know,  was  that  I  was  in  love  with 
Ava  Corliss  and  that  we  were  engaged  until 
she  met  you." 

Here  Bob  turned  and  looked  curiously  at 
Ava,  who  had  the  grace  to  blush  hotly. 

"  You  are  right,  my  dear  Mr.  Shupe,"  said 
Bob  politely.  "  I  certainly  did  not  know  that. 
I  may  go  further  and  state  that  I  was  led  to 
believe  that  I  was  the  first  in  the  young  lady's 
affections." 

At  this  Jimmie's  entire  countenance  ex 
panded  in  a  silent  but  exquisitely  appreciative 
grin.  It  seemed  to  do  him  no  end  of  good  to 
know  that  the  stinger  Bob  had  been  so  neatly 
stung  by  our  godly  Ava,  —  and  with  that 
Puritan  conscience  of  hers  too. 

But  after  all,  it  was  the  Puritan  conscience 
which  decided  things,  for  Ava,  who  might 
have  overlooked  the  theft  of  the  play,  because 
Bob's  smooth  tongue  could  argue  and  con 
vince  anybody  that  black  was  only  a  deep 
shade  of  gray  and  thus  but  a  trifle  removed 
from  pure  white,  had  not  taken  her  eyes  from 
the  child. 

Knowing  this  evidently,  Mr.  Shupe  had 
brought  his  reinforcements  with  him. 

"  As  to  whether  this  man  has  a  right  to 
marry  any  woman,  ask  the  mother  of  this 
child !  "  said  Shupe  impressively. 


228    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

But  Bob  was  evidently,  as  Jimmie  said, 
"  tired  of  being  the  goat,"  for  he  got  up,  nerv 
ously  clenching  and  unclenching  his  hands  and 
turning  several  colours  at  once. 

"  Don't  trouble  the  lady !  "  he  said  quickly. 
"  The  whole  story  is  in  my  little  son's  face. 
This  thing  has  hounded  me  for  five  years. 
I'm  glad  it's  out.  I'm  glad  you  all  know  it. 
Now,  you  be  the  judges.  What  shall  I  do? 
I  don't  love  the  child's  mother  nor  she  me, 
though  I  adore  the  child.  I  do  love  another 
woman"  (Here  Bob  kept  his  eyes  neither  on 
Ava  nor  on  Lyddy,  but  safely  riveted  to  my 
face!)  "  What  shall  I  do?  Marry  her  just  to 
give  my  child  a  name  —  a  name  that  nobody 
else  wants,  and  so  live  out  my  life  in  hell, 
or  —  " 

He  stopped  short,  astonished  at  the  passion 
expressed  in  Lyddy's  tense  face  and  loud 
breathing. 

"  Wait!  "  she  said.  "  Wait!  You  said  just 
now  that  nobody  wanted  your  name.  Ava 
Corliss  may  not  —  she's  too  good !  But  I'll 
take  it.  And  I  won't  steal  you  from  another 
woman  either,  who  has  the  first  claim  on  you. 
If,  as  you  say,  this  woman  does  not  love  you, 
nor  you  her,  and  if-  Here  she  turned  to 
Bob  with  a  frenzy  in  her  face  so  naked  that 
we  were  all  ashamed  that  we  saw  —  "if  you 


Bob  Makes  a  Proposal        229 

will  love  me  —  me,  you  understand,  as  you 
have  loved  these  other  women  —  I  will  let 
you  marry  and  divorce  her,  and  I  will  take 
care  of  both  the  woman  and  the  child  for 
life!" 

In  a  silence  which  could  have  been  heard  for 
miles.  Bob  Mygatt,  as  Jimmie  said,  "  took  the 
hurdle." 

"  And  after  the  divorce,  will  you  marry  me, 
dear  lady  ?  " 

Poor  Lyddy! 

We  turned  away  our  faces.  We  just 
couldn't  look! 


CHAPTER    XV 

IN    WHICH    BOB    BEGINS    HIS    CAREER   OF 
MARRYING 

I  DIDN'T  actually  swoon,  but  things  got 
black  before  my  eyes  and  Aubrey  got  me 
some  water  and  Jimmie  accidentally 
dropped  some  cigarette  ashes  down  my  neck 
as  he  patted  me  on  the  back  and  implored  me 
to  "  buck  up  "  and  not  "  spoil  the  fun." 

Fun! 

It  was  Laflin  Van  Tassel  who  took  charge 
of  the  woman  and  her  child  and  who  got  Bob 
married  to  her  the  next  day  before  any  of  us 
went  back  to  town. 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  us  in  on  the  deal  ?  " 
demanded  Jimmie,  who  hates  to  go  to  sleep 
at  night  for  fear  he  will  miss  a  dog  fight  or  a 
fire  or  some  kind  of  excitement. 

"Because  it  wasn't  decent!"  I  cried. 
"  Laflin  did  quite  right  to  get  it  done  as 
quietly  as  possible.  I'm  glad  I  wasn't  asked 
to  witness  the  thing.  I  wouldn't  have  seen  it 
for  anything!  How  did  they  behave,  Laflin?  " 
230 


Bob's  Career  of  Marrying     231 

Jimmie  bent  double  with  laughter. 

"  Oh,  yes !  You're  glad  you  weren't  there, 
aren't  you?  Nevertheless,  disgorge  the 
shockin'  details,  Van  Tassel.  Tell  her  every 
thing,  or  you'll  die  of  her  questions.  They 
are  small,  but  there  are  so  many  of  them,  they 
can  sting  a  defenceless  man  to  death." 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  said,  with  pardonable  heat. 
(Jimmie  does  make  me  so  wild.)  "  But  while 
one  might  not  want  to  be  mixed  up  in  a  dis 
gusting  affair  like  this,  there  is  no  harm  in 
wishing  to  know  how  Bob  bore  up  under  the 
ordeal." 

And  then  the  same  thought  struck  Jimmie 
and  me  at  the  same  time  and  we  shrieked  with 
laughter. 

'"  Honestly,"  said  Jimmie  wiping  his  eyes, 
"  of  course  we  oughtn't  to  laugh  at  the  im 
moral  spectacle  of  a  man  being  obliged  to  right 
his  youthful  follies  by  marrying  the  wronged 
woman  and  giving  his  son  a  name,  but  honest 
now !  To  think  of  old  Bob  doing  it  —  to  think 
of  Bob  Mygatt  —  " 

"Jimmie!"  I  said  imploringly,  as  the  door 
opened  behind  Jimmie. 

"  Oh,  I  know  this  is  ribald  and  indecent," 
said  Jimmie,  fairly  weeping  into  his  handker 
chief.  "  I  realize  what  Laflin  calls  the  ethics 
'of  the  case.  I  know  matrimony  is  a  holy 


232    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

estate  and  not  to  be  entered  into  lightly,  but 
soberly,  et  cetera.  But  what  I  want  to  know 
is,  could  Bob  keep  his  face  straight?  What  / 
want  to  know  is,  did  Ava  Corliss  and  that 
undertaker,  Shupe,  grace  the  scene?  What 
/  want  to  know  is,  was  our  fair  Lyddy  there 
to  give  the  bridegroom  away,  or  does  she  con 
sider  this  simply  a  renting  of  him  for  a  season  ? 
What  /  want  to  know  is  —  -  what  are  you 
flagging  me  for,  Faith  Jardine,  just  when  I 
am  beginning  to  enjoy  myself?" 

"  Because,"  I  said  in  quivering  tones, 
"  Lyddy  and  Bob  are  just  behind  you !  " 

For  a  moment  Jimmie  didn't  dare  turn 
around  to  see.  His  mouth  happened  to  be  open 
when  I  spoke  and  it  stayed  open  so  long  that 
I  really  feared  for  him.  Then  he  got  courage 
to  turn  his  head  and  face  them. 

I  think  I  have  never  enjoyed  anything  in 
the  whole  of  my  iniquitous  career  so  much  as 
the  sight  of  Jimmie's  face  when  he  finally 
caught  Bob's  and  Lyddy's  look. 

"  We  knocked  twice,"  said  Bob,  to  break 
the  ice  which  had  frozen  us  all  where  we  sat, 
"  but  you  were  so  congenially  occupied  - 

Jimmie  flapped  his  arms  at  him  feebly,  and 
wiped  the  dampness  from  his  brow. 

I  waited  hopefully  for  Lyddy  to  express  her 
valuable  opinion,  but  she  only  batted  her  weak 


Bob's  Career  of  Marrying     233 

eyes  and  seemed  to  be  gathering  her  scattered 
faculties  together. 

"  Well,  Lyddy,"  I  said  at  last,  goaded  into 
speech  by  the  frightened  silence  of  the  others. 

Then  Lyddy  rose  to  the  occasion.  She  was 
shaking  with  fury.  Her  face  was  red  with 
lighter  blotches  on  it,  and  before  she  had  said 
ten  words,  her  voice  rose  to  a  shrill  scream. 

I  can't  remember  what  she  said.  I  have 
only  the  hazy  recollection  that  I  was  preparing 
to  endure  her  tirade,  as  Bee  and  I  had  endured 
them  hundreds  of  times  before,  when  suddenly 
there  was  silence  and  we  looked  in  amaze,  to 
see  Bob  quietly  but  firmly  propelling  her  to 
the  door,  and  bowing  as  gallantly  over  her 
hand  as  if  she  had  been  Elaine  and  he  Sir 
Launcelot. 

As  Jimmie  said  afterward,  "  He  fair  kicked 
her  out  of  the  room  and  she  didn't  know  it!  " 

When  the  door  closed  behind  her,  I  looked 
to  see  Jimmie  and  Bob  clinch  in  battle. 

But  I  didn't  know  Bob.  He  asked  Laflin 
for  a  cigarette,  Jimmie  for  a  match,  Bee  for 
an  ash-tray,  crossed  his  long  legs,  looked 
around  at  all  of  us,  winked  cheerfully  and 
grinned  his  usual  Irish,  Bob  Mygatt  grin. 

Whereat  we  all  relaxed  our  tense  muscles 
and  breathed  such  a  sigh  of  relief  that  it 
sounded  like  a  draught. 


234   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

We  waited  expectantly  for  Bob  to  begin. 

"  James,"  said  Bob  impressively,  "  be  thank 
ful  that  you  are  married  to  only  one  wife. 
Laflin,  think  twice  before  you  kiss  the  next 
girl  you  feel  foolish  over.  This  mad  longing 
to  kiss  every  pretty  thing  in  female  form  I  see, 
is  what  has  brought  me  to  the  pass  you  now 
see  me  in,  with  a  u>as,  an  is  and  a  to-be!  If  I 
could  afford  it,  I'd  be  a  woman-hater!  " 

"  You  could  make  a  fortune  as  a  lion- 
tamer,"  I  said,  my  deep  admiration  of  his 
handling  of  the  redoubtable  Lyddy  betraying 
itself  in  my  voice. 

Bob  grinned  happily.  He  grinned  just  that 
same  way,  I  remembered,  when  he  broke 
Jimmie's  bird  dog  of  being  gun-shy,  and  we 
complimented  him  for  it.  As  Jimmie  says, 
"  Bob's  vanity  is  the  limit." 

But  Bob  was  simply  dying  to  talk  things 
over  with  us,  both  to  know  how  we  took  it 
and  to  air  his  own  emotion. 

"  Why  weren't  you  there,  dear  heart  of 
ice?"  he  said  addressing  me.  "Don't  you 
know  that  in  the  future  whenever  I  am  mar 
ried,  I  want  you  to  behold  the  obsequies?  " 

How  could  anybody  help  laughing  at  such 
a  graceless  scamp  as  Bob  Mygatt  ? 

"  I  didn't  know  where  the  services  were 
being  conducted,"  I  said. 


Bob's  Career  of  Marrying     235 

"  Services  over  the  '  dear  departed,'  "  cor 
rected  Bob  gravely.  "  You  put  it  neatly  as 
usual.  She's  gone.  I  saw  her  off." 

"Off?  Off  for  where?  "  demanded  Bee  and 
myself  in  a  composite  tone  of  voice. 

"South  Dakota!"  quoth  Bob.  "In  the 
presence  of  witnesses,  she  asked  me  to  come 
and  live  with  her  and  I  flunked.  Flunked 
publicly  and  shamelessly.  My  dear  Lyddy 
was  at  my  elbow  to  see  that  I  did !  " 

Now  I  didn't  invite  Bob  Mygatt  into  this 
story.  He  came  in  of  his  own  accord  and 
stayed  in  because  he  became  part  of  the  narra 
tive.  I  don't  excuse  him  nor  approve  of  him, 
and  I  am  just  as  much  ashamed  of  myself  as 
anybody  could  possibly  be  of  me,  but  the  truth 
of  the  matter  is  that  if  all  of  Bob's  audiences 
were  as  foolishly  responsive  to  his  iniquitous 
proceedings  and  ribald  comments  thereon  as 
Jimmie  and  I  were,  it  is  no  wonder  that  Bob 
felt  encouraged  to  do  worse. 

"  Then  you  are  really  going  to  put  it 
through,"  I  said. 

"Am  I?"  said  Bob.  "What  have  /  got 
to  do  with  it?  Am  I  not  a  mere  puppet  in 
Bee's  hands,  like  all  the  rest  of  you  —  whether 
you  know  it  or  not  ?  " 

"Bee's!"  I  cried.  And  then  again, 
"Bee's!" 


236    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"Listen  to  her!"  cried  Bob  derisively. 
"  Yet  there  are  times  when  she  exhibits  almost 
human  intelligence !  " 

Bee's  smile  was  a  little  self-conscious  as  we 
all  focussed  our  glances  upon  her. 

"  In  this  case,"  she  said  gently,  "  I  never 
could  have  done  it  alone.  I  have  Laflin  to 
thank,  not  only  for  many  valuable  suggestions 
but  for  the  entire  execution  of  it." 

"  But  —  but  —  "  I  stuttered. 

Jimmie  helped  me  out. 

"  How  ju  know  that  Bob  was  willing?  "  he 
demanded,  with  no  tact  and  less  shame. 

"  Jimmie,"  said  his  wife  reprovingly. 

For  once  he  never  answered  her.  He  was 
clenching  and  unclenching  his  hands  andtheend 
of  his  cigar  was  breathing  like  a  locomotive. 

It  was  only  the  second  time  I  had  ever  seen 
Bob  blush. 

"  Tell  'em,  Laflin,"  he  said. 

'  There  is  little  to  tell,"  said  Laflin  quietly. 
"  We  heard  of  the  Shupe  matter  and  knew 
that  the  play  was  headed  for  disaster.  Then 
Bee  learned  through  Faith  of  the  existence  of 
the  woman  and  her  child.  She  was  growing 
desperate  because  Bob  could  do  nothing  more 
for  her  —  " 

"  I  always  divided  with  her  when  I  had 
anything,"  muttered  Bob.  Aubrey  and  I  ex- 


Bob's  Career  of  Marrying     237 

changed  glances.  We  thought  of  Lyddy's 
amethyst  belt  buckle. 

"  So  we  consulted  Bob  and  found  that  — 
that  —  " 

'"  That  things  were  getting  altogether  too 
damned  hot  for  me!"  broke  in  Bob.  "  Ava 
and  her  Scruples  were  choking  the  life  out  of 
me.  Just  imagine,  if  you  please,  for  one  mo 
ment,  the  spectacle  of  my  being  married, 
hitched  for  life  to  that  Walking  Conscience! 
Why,  on  my  honour,  I  do  believe  all  she  saw 
in  me  was  a  Soul  to  be  Rescued.  If  I'd  mar 
ried  her,  she'd  have  held  me  up  to  her  Ideals 
with  a  grip  on  my  hair  that  would  have  made 
Absalom  look  like  a  two-spot.  But  I  stood  it 
-  that  is,  I  trotted  an  engagement  heat  with 
her,  just  as  a  pace-maker.  I  really  never  had 
any  intention  of  going  down  the  home  stretch 
with  her,  and  I  don't  believe  she  ever  really 
meant  to  marry  me.  I  believe,  as  I  look  back 
on  it,  that  she  has  always  preferred  Shupe.  But 
how  in  the  world  she  could,  when  she  had  me, 
I  can't  see!  Can  you,  lady-bird?  She  was 
probably  only  intent  upon  Saving  my  Soul. 
But  she  is  pretty,  you  know,  and  I  do  —  did 
love  her !  Don't  laugh !  I'm  trying  to  re 
member  that  I'm  married !  " 

"  And  engaged ! "  reminded  Jimmie. 
"  Don't  forget  the  next  on  your  list,  Bob ! " 


238    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  So  then,"  pursued  Bob,  "  I  looked  the 
matter  squarely  in  the  face.  On  the  one  hand 
debts,  disgrace,  a  sweetheart,  a  Menace  and 
a  Past.  On  the  other  hand,  a  dowered  bride, 
money  to  buy  Shupe's  interest  in  the  play, 
Freedom  and  a  Fortune!  " 

Bob  extended  his  arms  above  his  head  with 
his  hands  clenched. 

"Freedom!"  jeered  Jimmie  under  his 
breath.  But  Bob  heard  him. 

"  Yes,  freedom !  "  he  cried.  "  You  give 
me  all  the  money  that  will  be  settled  on  me 
before  I  take  the  fatal  plunge  and  see  if  I  don't 
make  good  as  to  the  freedom  part." 

"  He  will !  "  I  cried.  "  He  will !  Remem 
ber  the  way  he  headed  her  off  this  morning?  " 

"  Bob,"  said  Jimmie,  "  I  don't  want  you  to 
beat  her  nor  kick  her  —  not  too  hard,  that  is 
—  nor  to  black  her  eye,  so  that  it  will  show, 
but  I  do  want  to  shake  hands  with  you  just 
on  general  principles!" 

"  Shrewish  old  vitriol-tongued  termagant!  " 
Jimmie  murmured  in  my  ear.  "  Woman  who 
loves  jewels  as  much  as  my  wife  not  marry 
for  love  indeed!  Gee!  I'm  glad  Bob's  going 
to  marry  her!  He'll  fix  her  for  us !  " 

I  sat  looking  at  my  sister  and  thinking  hard. 
As  I  looked  back,  I  could  see  many  things 
which  escaped  me  at  the  time. 


Bob's  Career  of  Marrying     239 

"  And  in  spite  of  all  these  things  being 
brought  to  Bee  unsolicited,"  said  Laflin,  "  she 
held  her  peace.  She  told  no  one  —  except  me, 
of  course.  She  bore  her  cross  patiently  and 
worked  out  her  problem  in  the  proper  way." 

Bee's  face  slowly  crimsoned  under  the  lively 
inquiries  she  saw  in  Jimmie's  and  my  eyes. 

But  we  would  have  died  rather  than  give 
her  away. 

She  bent  an  adoring  and  an  adorable  glance 
of  gratitude  upon  Laflin,  which  was  the  first 
thing  Jimmie  had  seen  to  arouse  his  suspicions. 

He  turned  so  suddenly  to  demand  confirma 
tion  of  me,  that  he  caught  me  smiling. 

"  You  fiend !  "  he  whispered.  "  Why  didn't 
you  put  me  on  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  anything  as  yet  '  on,'  "  I  whis 
pered  back.  "  Do  see  now,  if  you  can  behave 
and  not  spoil  things !  " 

"  So!  "  said  Jimmie.  "So!  I  begin  to  see 
what  our  dear  Bee  meant  by  getting  time 
knocked  off  her  sentence  for  good  behaviour! 
Six  months  of  South  Dakota,  Bee,  and  then 
you  are  free !  " 

Bee  and  Laflin  looked  at  each  other. 

"Six  months!"  growled  Bob,  biting  into 
his  pipe  stem.  "  Well  laugh,  you  idiots ! 
Laugh!" 


CHAPTER    XVI 

DR.    BRAGG    PLAYS    HIS    PART 

"  ~1~  AM  beginning  to  think,"  said  Jimmie 
to  me  one  day.     But  I   rudely  inter- 
-•*-  rupted  him : 

"What?"  I  cried. 

"  Wait.  The  worst  is  yet  to  come.  I  am 
beginning  to  think  that  I  don't  know  it  all. 
Now  don't  swoon.  Listen,  and  you'll  learn 
something  —  even  from  me,  despised  though 
I  am!" 

"  Whatever  you  know,  tell  me,"  I  coun 
selled. 

"  Don't  I  always  ?  "  said  Jimmie,  reproach 
fully,  "  and  isn't  that  the  way  I  always  get  into 
trouble?  I  saw  something  that  day  we  had 
our  last  illuminating  insight  into  our  dear 
Robert  Mygatt's  character,  and  what  do  you 
think  it  was?  I  saw  him  wink  at  Bee  while 
Laflin  was  explaining  the  spiritual  way  she 
had  borne  her  cross.  And  worse  yet,  Bee 
winked  back!" 

240 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     241 

"Honest?"  I  cried. 

"  Honest  and  true !  Cross-my-heart-and- 
hope-to-die-if-they-didn't !  " 

Somehow  I  always  believe  a  person  who 
will  use  that  school-day  formula,  because  I 
never  use  it  myself  unless  I  am  really  telling 
the  truth.  I'd  be  afraid  to. 

"  Now,"  Jimmie  went  on,  "  I  believe  that 
our  dear  Bee  is,  as  usual,  managing  us  all 
for  her  own  deep-laid  plans.  I  believe  that 
she  and  Bob  have  been  in  the  deal  from  the 
first.  I  believe  that  Bob  arranged  to  have 
that  woman  go  to  the  Munsons'  so  that  you 
could  hear  about  it  and  tell  Bee  —  what's  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  only  I  hate  to  be  made  a  fool 
of.  And  I  believe  you  are  right  on  this." 

"  Bob  has  a  motto  on  his  wall  which  says 
'  Life  is  just  one  damned  thing  after  an 
other  ! '  "  said  Jimmie.  But  I  refused  to  smile. 
I  was  too  distinctly  annoyed. 

And  yet,  so  potent  are  our  Bee's  spells  that, 
while  we  were  yet  smarting  from  the  last 
touch  of  her  goad,  we  became  her  victims 
again. 

We  had  a  friend  by  the  name  of  Dr.  Bragg. 
But  there !  He  wasn't  a  friend.  Aubrey  said 
he  was  a  necessary  evil,  like  Lyddy  and  the 
necessity  for  sticky  flypaper  and  occasional 


242   The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

family  rows  and  other  things  which  annoy 
more  than  their  need  is  worth. 

But  Mrs.  Jimmie  had  been  afflicted  with 
rheumatism  for  a  year  and  had  tried  baths, 
doctors,  Christian  Science  (unknown  to  Jim 
mie),  and  now,  Dr.  Bragg,  the  osteopath,  was 
her  latest  venture. 

Dr.  Bragg  was  a  bachelor  about  fifty-odd 
years  old,  tall,  awkward,  raw-boned,  large- 
jointed  and  clumsy,  with  the  clumsiness  of 
a  man  who  knocks  down  bric-a-brac  every 
time  he  enters  a  room.  He  was  in  love  with  a 
Mrs.  Cox,  a  widow  who  was  playing  with 
him,  publicly  and  cruelly,  as  only  a  woman 
can. 

Now,  little  as  any  of  us  (who  are  fastidious 
beyond  our  meed)  cared  for  Dr.  Bragg,  we 
possess  a  rugged  sense  of  justice,  and  we  used 
to  allow  ourselves  to  become  quite  worked  up 
over  the  hopelessness  of  the  doctor's  passion. 

But  he,  like  most  men,  was  confident  —  oh, 
very  confident,  not  only  of  himself  and  his 
own  invaluable  deductions  on  every  known 
subject,  but  that  he  understood  women  per 
fectly.  Besides,  he  was  equally  sure  that  he 
knew  what  was  what  and  that  he  was  quite 
capable,  to  quote  Jimmie,  "  of  trotting  in  our 
class." 

Now  we  are  conceited  enough  to  think  that 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His   Part     243 

it  takes  a  thoroughbred  to  do  that,  and  Dr. 
Bragg  was  a  rank  outsider. 

Nevertheless,  we  tolerated  him  for  Mrs. 
Jimmie's  sake,,  being  positive  that  she  would 
soon  get  through  with  him  and  his  pretensions 
and  be  looking  for  a  new  cure. 

Our  surprise  then  may  be  imagined,  when 
Bee  first  met  him  at  a  dinner  at  the  Jimmies', 
which  included  Mrs.  Cox,  to  see  her  distinctly 
affable  to  him. 

Mrs.  Cox  represented  the  dernier  cri  in  mil 
linery,  and  having  had  rather  a  bad  time  of  it 
with  her  husband,  she  had  him  removed  by  law 
and  was  now  in  full  cry  after  the  good  time 
which  she  felt,  as  a  young  and  pretty  woman, 
was  her  due.  She  was  an  idolater  of  Mam 
mon,  and  if  she  ever  achieved  that  heaven  of 
pearly  gates  and  streets  of  gold  in  which  she 
believed,  she  would  be  much  more  exercised 
as  to  whether  her  wings  touched  in  the  back, 
or  the*  relative  sumptuousness  of  her  halo, 
than  concerning  her  spiritual  privileges  and 
the  unusual  companionship  in  which  she  found 
herself. 

And  wasn't  it  for  all  the  world  like  a  man 
—  and  it  would  make  a  gravestone  laugh  to 
remember  that  men  are  the  choosers  in  this 
world !  —  but  wasn't  it  just  like  such  a  man  as 
Dr.  Bragg  to  fall  in  love  with  such  a  woman? 


244    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

The  night  that  Jimmie  and  I  began  to  sit 
up  and  take  notice  was  soon  after  Bob  My- 
gatt's  first  marriage,  when  Mrs.  Jimmie  had 
us  all  to  dinner,  together  with  our  dear  Lyddy, 
Bob,  Laflin,  Mrs.  Cox  and  Dr.  Bragg. 

Now  I  have  never  criticized  Mrs.  Jimmie 
unfavourably  in  even  the  slightest  manner, 
but  if  there  were  anything  to  be  said,  it  would 
be  along  the  lines  of  her  being  too  sweet  to 
suspect  that  she  has  people  to  dinner  who  don't 
belong.  In  anybody  else,  that  would  be  a 
crime  in  my  eyes.  In  Mrs.  Jimmie,  it  is  an 
imperfection,  which,  as  everybody  will  allow, 
leans  to  virtue's  side. 

I  would  never  forgive  anybody  else,  who 
said  even  this  much  against  my  adored  Mrs. 
Jimmie,  but  I  am  compelled  to  account,  in 
some  manner,  for  her  having  Dr.  Bragg  at 
her  table,  on  account  of  w;hat  happened  after 
ward. 

Jimmie  seldom  notices  such  things.  To 
him,  we  were  a  nice  little  family  party,  as  he 
observed  to  me  privately. 

"  Everybody,"  he  whispered,  with  his  eye 
on  Lyddy  and  Bob,  "  in  love  in  neat  couples." 

Of  course  our  interest  centred  in  the  tenta 
tive  sets  of  lovers  —  Laflin  and  Bee,  Lyddy 
and  Bob,  and  the  doctor  and  his  grass-widow. 

Mrs.  Cox  started  the  ball  rolling  by  saying 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     245 

that  she  thought  husbands  were  so  selfish. 
They  never  made  love  to  their  own  wives,  but 
expected  no  other  man  to  dare  to. 

As  a  conversation-starter  among  reluctant 
talkers,  I  know  of  no  subject  which  is  the 
equal  of  this.  It  has  been  in  our  family  for 
generations  and  I  expect  to  hand  it  down  to 
my  children  also. 

At  first  Jimmie  fell  into  the  trap  every  time 
and  told  how  his  wife  didn't  lack  for  love  mak 
ing,  until  I  took  him  aside  and  explained  to 
him  that  the  trap  wasn't  set  for  him  and  that 
it  grew  monotonous  for  the  rest  of  us  to  see 
him  catch  his  paw  in  it  every  single  time. 
And  Jimmie  thanked  me  for  my  explanation, 
with  tears  of  gratitude  in  his  eyes,  so  to  speak. 
In  fact,  I  think  our  friendship  dated  from 
that  moment. 

So  now,  when  that  subject  is  introduced, 
Jimmie  leans  back  with  the  rest  of  the  old 
stagers  and  watches  the  youngsters  "  take 
their  turn,"  as  he  gracefully  puts  it,  "  in  riding 
the  goat." 

The  doctor  walked  into  the  trap  so  promptly 
that  Jimmie's  wink  nearly  upset  me,  and  even 
Mrs.  Cox,  the  sly  lady,  was  forced  to  drop 
her  eyes  to  hide  their  gleam.  The  fact  was 
that  she  was  about  to  perform  that  feat,  which 
to  a  woman  never  grows  old  nor  stale  —  of 


246   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

compelling  a  lover  unconsciously  to  display 
his  subjection  for  other  women  to  see. 

I  am  frank  to  say  that,  since  my  marriage, 
to  be  obliged  to  observe  this  process,  bores 
me.  I  think  widows  bore  most  married 
women  for  this  and  kindred  reasons. 

"  My  wife  will  never  have  to  complain  of 
not  having  enough  love  made  to  her,"  began 
the  doctor  heavily,  when  Mrs.  Cox  cut  in  with, 

"  Probably  not,  for  if  she  is  at  all  pretty 
and  stylish,  plenty  of  other  men  will  make  love 
to  her  also !  " 

The  doctor  nearly  sobbed  at  this,  because 
he  was  so  plainly  afraid,  with  Mrs.  Cox  for 
his  wife,  that  this  would  really  happen,  which 
it  undoubtedly  would. 

"  But  if  your  own  husband  filled  your  whole 
life,"  said  the  doctor  eagerly,  "  what  object 
would  you  have  in  permitting  other  men  to 
surround  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  same  reason  that  every  pretty 
woman  has  nowadays!"  replied  Mrs.  Cox 
with  a  lift  of  her  shoulders.  "  The  desire  for 
admiration!  For  whom  do  women  dress?  To 
displease  the  women  and  please  the  men !  You 
can't  keep  men  away  from  a  smartly  got  up 
woman!  He  may  deride  an  ugly  fashion,  but 
he  follows  the  woman  who  follows  the 
fashion !  And  for  a  man  to  follow  a  woman 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     247 

long   enough    is    for   him   to    make    love    to 
her!" 

"  But  what  I  cannot  understand,"  said  the 
doctor  in  an  agonized  tone,  "  is  why  women 

—  good  women,   nice  women,   sweet  women 

—  permit  themselves  to  be  made  love  to  after 
they  are  married!     Don't  they  know  that  it 
brings  pain  to  a  husband's  heart?  " 

"  It  ought  to  bring  a  bootjack  to  the  wife's 
head,"  was  Jimmie's  modest  contribution  to 
the  discussion. 

"  It  ought  to,  but  it  doesn't,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Cox.  "  All  women  do  it,  Mr.  Jimmie. 
Don't  they,  Mrs.  Lathrop?  You  know  they 
do." 

Jimmie  was  spared  a  disgusted  refutation 
of  this  remark,  to  defend  our  blessed  Mrs. 
Jimmie  from  being  included.  (The  Angel 
only  looked  at  me  and  smiled  as  he  quietly 
dropped  cigarette  ashes  into  his  bread-and- 
butter  plate)  when,  to  our  open-mouthed  as 
tonishment  Bee  —  our  coquettish  Bee  —  Bee 
of  the  Austrian  officer  episode  —  Bee,  the 
heroine  of  a  score  'of  gallant  skirmishes,  in 
which  she  routed  the  enemy,  man,  calmly 
stepped  into  the  arena,  and,  abandoning  the 
Juliets,  Kates  and  Beatrices  of  the  world,  es 
poused  the  cause  of  the  Griseldas  in  this 
wise. 


248    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  At  one  time,"  said  Bee,  in  that  tone  of 
honeyed  sweetness  which,  as  a  relative,  I  have 
learned  to  dread,  "  I  might  have  agreed  with 
you,  Mrs.  Cox,  but  I  have  recently  changed 
my  mind  upon  a  number  of  things.  I  think 
possibly  you  and  I  are  not  good  judges  of 
what  a  happily  married  woman  thinks,  feels 
or  permits  concerning  love  and  lovers  other 
than  her  own  husband." 

I  regret  to  say  that  Jimmie,  in  trying  not 
to  look  at  Laflin  or  me  just  at  this  juncture, 
got  the  hiccoughs,  and  the  remainder  of  Bee's 
homily,  which  poor  old  Laflin  was  too  thor 
oughly  a  man  to  see  through,  was  delivered 
with  the  noisiest  and  most  objectionable  form 
of  hiccoughs  from  Jimmie  as  punctuation 
marks. 

If  the  Angel  did  such  things,  I'd  send  him 
from  the  room. 

Now  Bee  has  an  exquisite  sense  of  humour, 
not  as  violent  as  mine,  consequently  more 
ladylike,  and,  I,  as  her  sister,  knew  that  the 
whole  situation  was  appealing  to  her  like  the 
stage  setting  of  a  Belasco  play,  even  to  the 
longing  to  stretch  herself  on  the  attic  floor  and 
beat  her  French  heels  on  the  bare  boards  and 
scream  at  Jimmie's  hiccoughs,  even  if,  for 
some  of  us,  they  did  spoil  her  effect. 

But  the  thing  which  saved  her  from  disaster 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     249 

(because,  of  course,  Jimmie  was  as  pleased 
with  his  hiccoughs  as  a  boy  with  his  first  boots, 
and  would  have  taken  his  oath  that  he  couldn't 
have  stopped  them,  although  everyone  of  us 
believed  that  he  could,  and  to  this  day,  when 
ever  we  have  no  other  subject  to  worry,  we 
attack  that  one  with  bitter  accusation  and 
heated  denials)  was  the  pathetic  manner  in 
which  the  doctor,  from  behind  Mrs.  Cox's 
shoulder,  nodded  and  winked  and  grimaced 
the  completeness  of  his  approval. 

"  Now  at  one  time,"  continued  Bee,  laying 
one  beautifully  rounded  arm  on  the  table 
where  Laflin  could  get  the  best  view  'of  it,  "  I 
opposed  Faith's  marriage  to  Aubrey  because 
he  hadn't  the  money  I  thought  Faith  needed 
and  I  didn't  believe  he  could  make  it.  I  have 
come  to  see  that  they  are  happier  in  their 
affection  for  each  other  than  millions  could 
make  them,  and  the  sight  of  their  utter  con 
tent  has  done  much  toward  changing  my  atti 
tude  toward  marriage." 

"  Hasn't  the  fact  that  the  old  man  has  writ 
ten  one  successful  play  and  made  a  pot  of 
money  out  of  it  had  something  to  do  with 
your  tardy  approval  of  him,  Bee?"  hic 
coughed  Jimmie. 

Dear  Mrs.  Jimmie's  reddening  cheeks  were 
more  of  a  reproof  to  him  for  this  than  her 


250  The    Concentrations  of  Bee 

sweet  disclaims  of  his  lovely  rudeness.  Dear 
old  Jimmie!  However,  one  need  seldom  pity 
Bee,  for  she  would  scorn  to  be  disconcerted 
and  reproof  never  gets  under  her  skin.  She 
sheds  it  like  a  waterproof  tin  roof.  She  feels 
that  she  did  not  deserve  it,  therefore,  why 
allow  it  to  sink  in? 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  am  sure 
Mrs.  Lathrop  was  convinced  by  the  heart  we 
all  know  Mr.  Jardine  possesses,  in  spite  of 
the  cynical  brilliancy  of  his  plays!  " 

'A  slight,  malicious  smile  widened  Bee's  lips 
at  this,  and  my  Angel  muttered  something  not 
fit  to  repeat. 

"  A  woman  when  she  marries  should  think 
of  nothing  but  her  husband  until  she  can  con 
fidently  look  forward  to  motherhood,"  went 
on  the  doctor,  turning  to  beam  fatuously  upon 
Mrs.  Cox,  but  if  looks  could  kill,  the  two  Mrs. 
Cox  and  Bee  shot  at  him  would  have  stretched 
him  dead  at  their  feet. 

"Nonsense!"  said  Mrs.  Cox  quickly. 
1  There  would  be  no  surer  way,  in  my  opin 
ion,  for  a  wife  to  lose  her  husband's  love  and 
to  drive  him  to  making  love  to  the  other 
women  who  have  eyes  for  the  admiration 
which  is  their  due,  than  for  her  to  do  the 
deadly  domestic  act.  If  I  ever  am  foolish 
enough  to  marry  again,  you  will  see  me  profit 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     251 

by  my  observations,  as  well  as  my  disastrous 
personal  experiences." 

"  Whoever  he  is,  he  will  be  the  most  fortu 
nate  man  on  earth,"  said  the  doctor  fer 
vently. 

Bee  waited,  as  delicately  poised  as  a  purple 
butterfly  while  this  interruption  proceeded,  but 
she  held  our  interest,  as  she  always  could  in 
any  assemblage  she  chose  to  grace,  and  when 
she  had  indicated  by  a  lifted  eyebrow,  that  if 
they  were  quite  done,  she  would  go  on,  she 
said, 

"  Domesticity  need  not,  of  necessity,  be 
deadly,  if  I  may  differ  from  Mrs.  Cox.  The 
days  of  the  slovenly  wife  and  dowdy  young 
mother  have  passed.  Nowadays  wifehood  and 
maternity  are  smartly  and  becomingly  gowned, 
and  the  clever  woman  is  the  one  who  can 
make  even  domesticity  spicy  and  perfect  con 
fidence  pungent.  If  a  woman  can  keep  her 
own  husband  thoroughly  interested,  she  will 
have  little  time  to  coquette  with  the  husbands 
of  other  women." 

Here  the  doctor's  nods  and  winks  were  so 
pronounced  that  even  Bee  smiled,  and  our  dear 
Lyddy  voiced  the  general  opinion,  when  she 
snorted  out, 

"  Well,  my  lady,  you  certainly  have 
changed ! " 


252   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  I  hope,  dear  Lydia,"  said  Bee,  "  that  I  do 
change.  I  should  dislike  to  think  that  I  alone 
stood  still,  while  all  the  rest  of  you  are  so 
palpably  getting  on!  " 

At  this  somewhat  pungent  reference  to 
Lyddy's  state  of  probationary  bliss,  Lyddy 
smiled  broadly  and  glanced  with  aged  coyness 
at  Bob,  who  slowly  turned  purple  under  the 
lively  interest  of  our  composite  gaze. 

"  Happiness  is  so  rare  a  possession,  that  to 
acquire  it,  we  are  all  compelled  to  pay  a  price 
commensurate  with  it,"  I  observed  with  my 
eye  carefully  on  Bob's  majenta  face. 

"  But  no  matter  how  high  the  price  may 
seem  to  others,"  answered  Bob,  as  if  I  had 
addressed  him  personally  (a  woman  in  his 
place  never  would  have  let  everybody  see  that 
she  felt  the  point  of  my  dart,  which  shows  how 
even  an  ordinary  woman  can  often  get  the 
best  of  a  clever  man).  "  Men  are  always  to 
be  found  who  are  willing  to  pay  it,  and  glad 
of  the  chance!  " 

'  Yes,"  hiccoughed  Jimmie  genially,  "  they 
do  say  there  is  a  fool  born  every  minute!  " 

Now,  lest  the  foolish  sympathize  unintelli- 
gently,  let  me  pause  to  remark  that  this  sort 
of  thing  was  not  cruel  to  Lyddy,  for  she  was 
so  dull  withal,  she  never  saw  it.  And  even  if 
she  had  seen,  she  was  so  conceited,  it  never 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     253 

would  have  occurred  to  her  to  take  the  mean 
ing  to  herself. 

"Well,"  said  Bob,  "tastes  differ.  There 
are  those  who  talk  fluently  of  love  in  a  cot 
tage.  They  are  generally  those  who  haven't 
tried  it.  A  three-room  cottage  and  a  wife  who 
does  her  own  work  and  whose  hands  smell  of 
dishwater  are  not  my  idea  of  domestic  bliss." 

"  Nor  mine,"  spoke  up  Aubrey,  with  his 
slow  smile,  for  when,  in  our  poverty  spots,  we 
have  had  to  come  down  to  housework  and  I 
have  cooked,  I  have  always  recklessly,  and 
with  Aubrey's  connivance,  hired  the  janitor's 
wife  to  wash  the  dishes. 

"  But,"  said  Bee,  "  if  you  are  poor,  Bob, 
you  are  always  sure  of  being  married  for  love 
alone,  while  either  the  man  or  the  woman  with 
much  money  is  always  wondering  how  much 
love,  if  any,  is  included  in  the  bargain." 

Then  it  dawned  on  both  Jimmie  and  me 
simultaneously  that  this  was  what  Bee  had 
been  leading  up  to,  and  that  the  affair  of  the 
doctor  and  Mrs.  Cox  were  as  if  they  were  not, 
to  our  Bee. 

We  were  so  struck  by  the  evident  impres 
sion  Bee's  last  remark  was  making  on  Laflin's 
mind,  and  the  delightful  fact  that  he  was  mod 
estly  taking  it  only  one  way,  as  Bee  had  con 
fidently  counted  upon  his  doing,  and  we  were 


254  The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

so  awed  by  the  skill  with  which  Bee  spurred 
her  slightly  tardy  wooer  into  active  thought, 
that  we  forgot  the  conceit  of  Lyddy,  which 
made  her  consider  herself  attacked. 

"  /  see  what  you  mean,  Bee  Lathrop,"  she 
began,  and  we  were  so  surprised  and  so  taken 
up  with  other  thoughts  that  we  couldn't  at 
once  collect  ourselves,  so  Lyddy  got  quite  a 
little  headway. 

"  You  mean  me,  of  course !  How  dare  you 
say  openly  —  as  openly  as  you  just  did,  that 
I  am  to  be  married  for  my  money.  I  assure 
you,  Bee  Lathrop,  there  is  nobody  will  be  glad 
der  than  I  when  you  and  I  can  separate  for 
good,  and  I  s'pose  noiv  even  this  precious  set 
of  your  friends  who  think  everything  the 
charming  Mrs.  Lathrop  does  is  so  wonderful 
and  so  fine,  can  noiv  see  what  I  have  to  take 
from  you!  I  hope  now — 

She  stopped  abruptly,  and  at  first  we  gazed 
about  wildly  for  a  reason.  But  Bob  had  not 
moved  except  to  look  at  her,  and  for  the  first 
time  she  had  met  that  look. 

"  By  thunder,"  Jimmie  said  to  me  after 
ward,  "  I  begin  to  believe  what  Bob  said  about 
taking  his  freedom.  By  thunder,  I'll  bet  he'll 
take  it  with  both  hands.  I  tell  you  I  didn't 
think  the  fool  had  it  in  him  to  look  at  any 
human  being  with  such  a  look  —  it  was  posi- 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     255 

lively  murderous,  wasn't  it,  Faith  ?  —  and  you 
know  you  were  tickled  to  death  that  she  was 
getting  it,  weren't  you,  now?  I  tell  you,  I 
didn't  think  it  was  in  the  brute!  By  thunder, 
I  didn't!" 

Jimmie's  vocabulary  of  decent  expletives  is 
limited,  therefore  I  excuse  in  him  what  would 
be  tautology  in  others. 

But  as  I  heartily  agreed  with  him  in  his  in 
coherent  but  nevertheless  sincere  admiration  of 
Bob's  suppression  of  the  redoubtable  Lyddy,  I 
said  nothing  and  thereby  lost  a  valuable  op 
portunity  of  stirring  him  up. 

After  Lyddy  subsided,  there  was  a  momen 
tary  silence,  and  we  all  sat  watching  Bob,  who 
was  plainly  of  two  minds  about  something. 
He  knocked  invisible  ashes  from  his  cigarette 
with  a  nervous  little  finger  several  times,  then 
he  said  quietly, 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Bee  —  " 

And  again  he  looked  at  Lyddy,  who  stared 
back  at  him  as  if  hypnotized  and  then  mut 
tered, 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Bee.  I  —  I  didn't 
mean  what  I  said." 

"  I  am  sure  you  didn't,  Lyddy,"  said  Bee, 
with  a  degree  of  cordiality  in  her  tones  that 
any  woman  could  have  thrown,  who  knew  that 
every  man  at  the  table  was  her  secret  cham- 


256  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

pion  and  who  was  upborne  by  the  fact  that  one 
had  espoused  her  cause  openly. 

But  Bee  always  managed  to  —  not  to  place 
herself  in  the  right,  as  I  have  to  do  with  a 
loud  splash,  if  ever  I  happen  to  get  there,  — 
but  to  be  in  the  right,  to  be  there  first  and  be 
sitting  there,  waiting  for  us  to  enter  through 
the  door  of  Wrong  and  see  her  mounted  as 
securely  on  the  throne  of  Right  as  if  she  had 
grown  there! 

However,  all  this  is  by  the  way,  and  went 
unobserved  except  by  a  few.  Laflin,  for  ex 
ample,  lost  the  whole  of  it,  for  he  had  never 
taken  his  eyes  from  Bee  since  her  remark 
about  being  loved  for  herself,  and  that  Bee 
was  acutely  conscious  of  his  observation,  any 
sister  would  know,  by  signs  invisible  to  the 
naked  eye  and  impossible  to  describe,  but  still 
there ! 

Then,  too,  she  had  the  pleasing  conscious 
ness  that  Laflin  had  been  an  ear-witness  to  the 
sort  of  thing  she  had  to  put  up  with  from  her 
sister-in-law  under  the  condition  in  which  her 
husband  left  his  estate,  and  as  Bee  was  much 
too  diplomatic  ever  to  complain,  she  never  had 
been  quite  sure  that  Laflin  knew  what  she  had 
to  bear  up  under  —  in  short,  that  he  had  ren 
dered  her  that  full  meed  of  his  admiration 
which  she  felt  that  she  deserved. 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     257 

So  Bee  was  just  in  that  exalted  frame  of 
mind  which  too  often  is  followed  by  a  disaster 
which  none  of  us  could  foresee  and  which 
never  would  have  happened,  or  rather,  which 
never  would  have  been  of  just  that  unbearable 
degree  of  vulgarity  it  proved,  if  there  had  not 
been  aliens  in  our  midst. 

(I  don't  call  an  "  in-law  "  like  Lyddy  an 
alien,  for  almost  everybody  is  obliged  to  sub 
mit  to  traits  and  characteristics  in  "  in-laws  " 
which,  like  barked  shins,  sprained  ankles  or 
black-and-blue  spots,  are  due  to  our  own  care 
lessness  in  not  seeing  where  we  are  going. 
Such  things,  therefore,  people  are  not  espe 
cially  blamed  for  or  sympathized  with  on  ac 
count  of  them.  We  just  pass  them  over  in 
silence,  as  all  in  the  day's  work.) 

Bee  seemed  to  feel  that  she  must  change 
the  subject  from  the  foolishness  of  the  doctor's 
monopoly,  so,  taking  my  cue  and  entirely  for 
getting  that  there  were  outsiders  present,  I 
launched  out  on  a  description  of  how  we  had 
to  cook  our  bedroom  by  day  in  order  to  sleep 
in  it  by  night,  and  from  that  we  got  to  telling 
jokes  on  the  Munsons,  perfectly  harmless  in 
themselves,  but  full  of  deadly  insult  if  re 
peated  by  a  stranger,  and  all  would  have  been 
well,  if  Bee  had  been  able  to  hold  herself  in. 

But  manners,  or  rather  savoir  faire,  is  more 


258   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

to  Bee  than  home  or  husband  or  child  or 
wealth  or  religion,  and  the  quality  of  the  aliens 
in  our  midst  got  on  her  nerves,  as  you  shall 
hear,  not  to  her  undoing!  Oh,  no!  Fate  al 
ways  skipped  Bee's  elaborate  coiffure  and 
landed  with  unerring  aim  on  my  unprotected 
skull. 

The  moment  the  conversation  lagged,  the 
doctor  harked  back  to  his  own  case,  just  as  a 
confiding  Newfoundland  can  never  see  why 
he  is  not  just  as  welcome  in  the  drawing  room 
as  the  Blenheim,  and  keeps  returning  to  try 
his  luck  again  and  again. 

"  Love  in  marriage  has  not  gone  out  of 
fashion,  ladies,"  he  began  ponderously.  "  Men 
—  good  men  —  the  sort  of  men  who  make 
good  husbands  never  marry  for  anything  else. 
And  women  should  do  the  same.  If  you  would 
only  fix  your  mind  on  the  enduring  qualities 
of  heart  and  soul  which  a  man  possesses,  and 
marry  for  those  things,  there  would  be  less 
demand  on  your  part  for  admiration  from 
other  men." 

He  so  plainly  was  wooing  Mrs.  Cox  under 
this  attempt  at  generalization  that  the  lady  had 
the  grace  to  blush. 

"  I  can  conceive  of  no  greater  bore,"  ob 
served  Mrs.  Cox  icily,  "  than  fixing  my  mind 
on  my  husband's  enduring  qualities  of  heart 


Dr.   Bragg  Plays  His  Part     259 

and  soul  when  I  wanted  a  younger  and  hand 
somer  man  to  make  love  to  me.  Can  you, 
Mrs.  Lathrop?  " 

The  doctor  signalled  frantically  to  Bee. 

"  Yes,  I  can,"  said  Bee.  "  If  I  should  ever 
marry  again,  which  is  not  likely  - 

Here  Lyddy's  loud  sniff  of  disbelief  voiced 
the  general  dissent  of  our  little  party  so  ex 
quisitely  that  Jimmie  turned  a  laugh  into  a 
sneeze  and  then  cleared  his  throat  noisily  to 
prove  that  he  really  had  a  cold  — 

"  I  should  never  even  accept  a  man,  in  whom 
I  was  not  violently  in  love.  Yes,  violently. 
That  word  may  seem  rather  to  belong  to 
Faith  than  to  me,  but  as  I  said,  my  views  have 
been  changing,  and  if  I  could  be  sure  of  being 
loved  for  myself  alone,  I  could  be  satisfied 
with  the  companionship  of  just  that  one  man, 
and  never  think  of  any  other." 

The  doctor  leaned  back  suddenly  and 
beamed  on  the  company  as  if  fully  satisfied. 
The  poor  man  could  not  see  that  every  word 
Bee  spoke,  which  so  pleased  him,  was  render 
ing  Mrs.  Cox  more  unruly  and  defiant,  and 
that  her  growing  irritation  boded  no  good  to 
him  on  the  way  home.  He  felt  Bee's  influence, 
and  he  considered  the  subject  settled. 

When  we  went  into  the  drawing  room  for 
coffee,  he  planted  his  feet  on  Bee's  train  and 


260   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

whispered  to  her  for  fully  five  minutes.  We 
could  see  Bee's  lips  widening  behind  her 
fan. 

Jimmie  said  he  heard  every  word. 

"  He's  telling  her  how  he  loves  Mrs.  Cox 
and  thanking  her  for  championing  his  cause  at 
dinner.  Did  you  get  that  ?  He  thinks  she  was 
trying  to  help  him!  Oh,  Lord!  " 

And  he  hiccoughed  loudly. 

Bee  evidently  had  stood  all  she  was  going 
to,  for  she  tires  easily.  She  interrupted  the 
doctor  and  said  something  which  caused  his 
jaw  to  drop. 

"Watch  'im!"  urged  Jimmie,  hitting  my 
elbow  and  making  me  spill  my  coffee.  "  Oh, 
I  beg  your  pardon !  " 

As  if  that  did  any  good. 

"  She  is  probably  telling  him  that  he  and  his 
affair  weren't  in  her  mind  at  all,"  I  said  in 
Jimmie's  ear,  "  because  she  wants  him  to  get 
off  her  dress  and  go  home,  so  she  can  talk  to 
Laflin." 

Which  was  exactly  what  she  was  doing,  as 
it  turned  out  afterward.  Only  she  went 
further  and  told  him  that  Mrs.  Cox  was  totally 
unsuited  to  him  as  a  wife  and  she  advised  him 
to  look  where  he  was  going. 

Then  when  the  doctor  had  departed,  indig 
nant  with  surprise,  and  Bee  was  sure  Laflin 


Dr.   Bragg   Plays  His  Part     261 

was  approaching,  as  indeed  he  was,  Mrs.  Cox 
dropped  gracefully  down  on  the  sofa  beside 
Bee,  shaking  her  fan  at  Laflin's  discomfiture 
and  blind  to  the  green  light  in  Bee's  eyes. 

What  she  said  we  could  not  hear,  but  Mrs. 
Cox's  face  underwent  several  changes,  and 
things  began  to  look  interesting  when  Laflin 
again  approached  the  sofa  which  held  the  two 
women,  with  an  American  beauty  rose  in  his 
hand  with  the  longest  stem  I  ever  saw. 

Bee  gave  an  involuntary  exclamation  of 
pleasure  at  the  beauty  of  it,  and  held  out  her 
hand  to  take  it  as  Laflin  offered  it  to  her,  when 
the  doctor  stepped  up  and  took  it  from  Laflin's 
hand. 

He  did  not  know  he  was  rude.  He  was 
simply  born  that  kind  of  an  animal. 

"My,  but  that  has  a  fine  smell!"  he  ex 
claimed,  burying  his  nose  in  its  fragrance  and 
crushing  the  flower  against  his  face  in  a  man 
ner  which  made  us  all  wince.  "  But  these 
thorns  are  bad.  Allow  me !  "  And  with  the 
air  of  doing  Bee  a  favour  and  before  anyone 
could  cry  out,  he  had  whipped  out  his  knife 
and  cut  the  stem  six  inches  below  the  rose 
and  proffered  the  now  mutilated  flower  to 
Bee. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  lady  simply  furious? 
A  woman  with  the  restraint  of  civilization 


262    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

about  her,  yet  seething  with  a  primitive  rage 
which  made  her  long  to  bury  her  teeth  and 
nails  in  her  victim's  tenderest  part  ? 

I  felt  sorry  for  Bee,  not  because  of  her  poor 
rose  or  Laflin,  but  because  she  was  a  lady  and 
couldn't  say  what  she  looked  and  felt. 

She  gave  one  look  at  Mrs.  Cox  which  said 
as  plainly  as  words, 

"If  you  marry,  you  will  marry  —  that!" 

And  Mrs.  Cox's  crimson  face  answered  that 
she  didn't  blame  Bee  at  all,  but  for  Bee  just 
to  wait  until  she  got  the  doctor  alone. 

She  took  him  home  without  any  further 
pretext  and  the  simple-minded  man  beamed 
on  us  all  a  beatific  beam  of  fatuous  happiness 
as  we,  with  faces  set  with  apprehension,  saw 
them  go. 

"  Gee !  "  said  Jimmie,  as  the  front  door 
slammed.  "  Was  I  ever  such  a  blind  ass  as 
that,  even  before  I  was  married  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  were !  "  I  said  cruelly,  "  for 
when  a  man  who  dreads  ridicule  as  keenly  as 
you  do,  is  a  fool,  he  is  an  awful  one!  " 

Jimmie  looked  so  worried  that  I  was  going 
on,  but  Bee  interrupted  me. 

"  I  hereby  serve  notice  on  all  of  you  that  I 
have  stood  all  I  am  going  to  from  those  two. 
I  can  bear  up  under  real  tribulation,"  here  she 
looked  at  Lyddy  and  Bob  grinned  cheerfully, 


Dr.    Bragg  Plays   His  Part     263 

"  but  I  cannot  and  will  not  submit  to  the  soci 
ety  of  the  underbred." 

"  Right  you  are,  Bee,  me  darlin',"  said  Bob, 
"  only  Dr.  Bragg  isn't  underbred,  he  is  under 
done.  He  is  raw!  " 

"  He  won't  be  underdone  when  I  am 
through  with  him,"  said  Bee  quietly. 

Whereat  Laflin  said  simply, 

"  I  am  sorry." 

And  instantly  we  all  became  aware,  as  in  a 
flash,  that  Laflin,  too,  was  an  outsider,  if  not 
exactly  an  alien. 

We  may  not  be  perfect,  we  of  The  Happy 
Family,  but  we  love  ourselves,  and  our  faults 
are  just  the  sort  of  faults  that  we  can  bear 
with  ease,  if  you  allow  us  to  make  rude  re 
marks  occasionally.  Therefore  the  hint  of  re 
proof  from  an  outsider  of  one  of  us  of  the 
rank  of  our  beloved  Bee,  made  Jimmie  and 
me  lift  our  heads  and  look  at  each  other  with 
the  same  question  in  the  eye  of  each. 

"Shall  we  let  Bee  marry  him?"  we  tele 
graphed. 

Then  we  looked  at  the  green  inner  light  in 
Bee's  eye  and  we  smiled  foolishly.  We 
wouldn't  be  called  upon  to  act,  if  she  meant 
what  that  look  said. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

IN    WHICH    BEE  APPLIES  A   COUNTER  IRRITANT 

WHEN  we  separated  that  night  we 
felt  that  things  were  brewing,  so 
that  when  in  a  few  days  Bee  sum 
moned  Jimmie  and  me  to  a  star  chamber  ses 
sion  and  left  out  both  Aubrey  and  Mrs.  Jim 
mie,  we  knew  that  something  had  happened. 

Bee's  very  attitude  seemed  different  as  she 
met  us,  and  at  first  I  looked  at  her  blacks  to 
see  if  she  had  narrowed  her.  bands  of  woe  or 
gone  into  lavender.  But  her  clothes  were  as 
immaculate,  as  self-restrained  and  as  sombre 
as  an  English  butler.  It  was  her  eye  which 
had  changed.  In  a  flash,  it  came  to  us. 

Bee  was  returning  to  her  own !  Her  newly 
acquired  holiness  was  dropping  from  her,  as  a 
garment,  and  we  worthless  ones  welcomed  her 
back  to  our  midst  with  silent  acclaim.  It 
never  does  to  cheer  too  loudly  over  Bee's  re 
turns  until  you  know  what  they  mean. 

"  Don't  take  off  your  things,  Faith,  because 
we  are  going  over  to  your  studio.  Something 
has  happened,  or  rather,  will  happen  to-day. 
264 


Bee  Applies  a  Counter  Irritant  265 

Oh,  don't  look  so  frightened,  silly!  I  only 
meant  that  Dr.  Bragg  got  even  with  me  for 
telling  him  that  Mrs.  Cox  wasn't  interested  in 
his  profession  and  telling  her  that  I  should 
think  she  would  engage  a  foeman  worthy  of 
her  steel,  by  telling  the  Munsons  how  you 
talked  about  him  as  a  landlord,  and  —  " 

"  Come  on !  "  cried  Jimmie,  putting  his 
stick  on  the  elevator  bell  and  holding  it  there 
until  it  came  up  with  a  rush,  ignoring  all  gen 
tler  signals. 

He  bundled  us  into  the  machine  and  we  flew 
to  my  studio. 

The  moment  we  arrived,  I  saw  that  we  were 
none  too  soon.  It  was  in  the  air. 

Bee,  usually  so  polite,  stepped  ahead  of  me 
and  walked  to  the  double  doors  connecting  our 
studio  with  Eleanor's.  Blackman,  the  super 
intendent,  was  there,  tinkering  with  the  lock. 

"  Has  it  come,  Mr.  Blackman?"  asked  Bee, 
sweetly. 

"Has  what  come,  Mrs.  Lathrop?"  asked 
Blackman. 

"  The  load  of  bricks  Mr.  Jardine  ordered  to 
brick  up  these  doors." 

Blackman  laid  down  his  keys  and  scratched 
his  head. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,  Mrs.  Lathrop,"  he 
said,  "  Has  there  been  any  trouble  ?  Excuse 


266    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

me  for  asking,  but  Mr.  Munson  has  been  some 
thing  awful  over  the  telephone  all  day.  He 
gave  orders  to  put  a  padlock  on  this  door  — 

"  I  suppose  he  had  heard  that  my  brother- 
in-law  intended  to  do  far  more  than  that,"  said 
Bee  sweetly.  "  You  needn't  mind  the  padlock. 
We  want  it  bricked  up  so  that  no  sound  can 
penetrate  the  wall.  Work  will  begin  on  it  at 
once.  When  Mr.  Munson  calls  up  again, 
please  tell  him  that." 

With  a  smile  of  glee  which  plainly  showed 
the  low  status  the  Munsons  held  with  their  all- 
powerful  superintendent,  Blackman  took  his 
leave. 

Then  Jimmie  and  I  showed  ourselves. 

"  Have  you  really  got  the  bricks,  Bee  ? " 
asked  Jimmie. 

"  No,"  said  Bee,  calmly.  "  I  knew  you 
could  get  them  for  us." 

Bee's  manner  of  putting  the  impossible  up 
to  a  man  and  confidently  expecting  him  to 
compass  it,  is  very  flattering  and  always  makes 
a  hit  with  her  victim. 

Jimmie  frowned  a  moment,  then  went  to  the 
telephone. 

Bee  and  I  sat  on  the  table  and  waited. 

"  Ju  get  'em  ?  "  I  demanded  when  he  re 
turned. 

'  They  arc  coming  up  on  hods  now ! "  he 


Bee  Applies  a  Counter  Irritant  267 

said  with  a  grin.  "  The  foreman  in  charge  of 
the  apartment  house  being  built  across  the 
street  —  fellow  by  the  name  of  Rafferty  — 
used  to  work  for  me.  I  saw  him  this  morn 
ing.  By  good  luck  I  just  caught  him  and  he's 
lending  me  bricks,  mortar  and  workmen  for 
this  job.  It'll  be  done  in  a  couple  of  hours." 

"  Jimmie,"  I  said.    "  You  are  a  wonder." 

Jimmie  beamed  with  pleasure  at  my  com 
pliment,  whereupon  I  produced  refreshments, 
and  having  seen  my  guests  at  their  ease,  I 
said: 

"  Now,  please,  Bee,  may  I  know  how  this 
thing  is  coming  out?" 

"  I  haven't  decided  yet,"  she  returned. 
"  But  one  thing  is  certain.  Now  that  the  black 
flag  has  been  raised,  I  propose  to  compel  Mun- 
son  to  repair  the  wall  of  your  bedroom  before 
we  consent  to  make  up." 

"  Consent  to  make  up !  "  I  cried.  "  Do  you 
think  he  will  ever  speak  to  us  after  seeing 
this?" 

And  I  waved  my  hand  at  the  bricks,  which 
were  beginning  to  arrive. 

"  I  have  calculated,"  said  Bee,  "  that  Black- 
man  did  not  wait  for  Munson  to  telephone 
again.  He  called  Munson  and  said  we  were 
bricking  up  the  doors.  Munson,  being  more 
curious  than  a  dozen  cats,  will  catch  the  first 


268    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

train  for  town.  It  will  take  him  two  hours  to 
get  here.  Therefore  about  five  o'clock  we 
shall  see  Munson's  emotional  silk  hat  and  his 
nervous  beard  through  that  aperture  which  we 
now  sit  watching,  and  he  will  forget  all  about 
the  vendetta  in  his  curiosity  to  know  what  we 
got  excited  about  to  the  extent  of  cutting  off 
communication  with  him  and  his." 

"  If  he  comes,  he'll  be  wild  about  having  the 
wind  taken  out  of  his  sails,"  said  Jimmie,  who 
occasionally  betrays  an  astuteness  which  causes 
me  to  love  him.  "  Munson  has  more  vindic- 
tiveness  than  any  man  I  know." 

*'  He  has  more  pride  in  his  ability  to  hate 
first  and  get  even  first,  than  anything  else," 
said  Bee.  "  But  like  all  children,  he  is  quick 
to  forget." 

"  And  especially  quick  to  forgive  himself  for 
having  insulted  you,"  I  put  in.  "  He  says 
things  he  ought  to  be  shot  for,  and  then  for 
gets  all  about  them." 

Bee  smiled. 

"  I  told  you  so,"  she  said.  "  But  you 
wouldn't  believe  me." 

"  Faith  was  too  busy  doing  things  for  them 
to  see  flaws  at  first,"  said  Jimmie.  But  ob 
serving  my  open-mouthed  amazement  at  his 
praise,  he  hastily  turned  to  Bee  and  said : 

"  However,  commander  of  the  faithful,  I  do 


Bee  Applies  a  Counter  Irritant  269 

not  see  exactly  how  you  are  coming  out  on  this 
deal  —  not  that  our  poor  feeble  brains  are 
capable  of  understanding  such  a  Mike  —  Mike 
-  What's  the  fellow's  name,  Faith  ?  " 

"Mike?    Mike  who?" 

"  That's  just  what  I  am  asking  you !  You 
know!  The  fellow  who  laid  plots.  Mike  — 

"  Machiavelli !  "  I  shrieked.  "  Mike!  Any 
body  would  think  he  was  a  hod  carrier !  " 

"  That's  the  chap.  Mikeavelli !  We  may  not 
be  capable  of  understanding  our  young  friend 
here,  Mike  Lathrop,  but  we  would  like  a  try 
at  it." 

"  I  think  I  have  it,"  said  Bee  slowly.  "  I 
know  one  of  Dr.  Darlington's  assistants.  If 
he  is  only  in !  " 

She  went  to  the  telephone  and  called  up  the 
Department  of  Health,  while  Jimmie  and  I 
still  sat  on  the  table  and  swung  our  feet  and 
listened  hopefully. 

Presently  Bee  came  back. 

"  I  got  him !  "  she  said.  "  And  he  was  just 
on  his  way  up  town  and  will  stop  here." 

The  bricklayers  had  begun  their  work. 
Jimmie  directed  it,  with  Rafferty's  help,  for 
Rafferty  had  to  come  over  to  see  what  it  was 
all  about. 

"  Now,"  said  Bee,  "  when  Dr.  Lambertson 
comes,  leave  him  entirely  to  me.  Don't  either 


270    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

one  of  you  put  an  oar  in,  no  matter  what  you 
think." 

We  promised  and  Bee  managed  the  young 
and  good  looking  doctor  from  the  Health  De 
partment  as  only  our  Bee  could.  I  think  Bee 
must  have  taken  him  in  on  the  joke,  for  when 
they  came  down  from  inspecting  the  fungus 
on  my  bedroom  wall,  Dr.  Lambertson  joined 
us  for  a  moment  and  watched  the  bricklayers 
with  a  broad  grin  on  his  face,  in  which  was 
largely  writ  a  great  approval  of  the  widow 
Lathrop  and  her  nimble  wit  in  planning  such 
a  coup. 

Bee  went  to  the  elevator  with  him  and  I 
heard  him  say : 

"  Well,  good-bye  till  Thursday.  And  be 
sure  and  let  me  know  if  I  can  be  of  the  least 
further  service  to  you,  Mrs.  Lathrop,"  when 
the  elevator  arrived  and  claimed  him. 

Bee  came  back,  smiling  her  little  conscious 
smile  of  having  done  a  good  job,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  relating  to  us  what  the  doctor  had 
said,  when  the  return  trip  of  the  elevator 
brought  Munson,  his  hair,  beard  and  the  nap 
of  his  tall  hat  all  betraying  nervous  anxiety 
and  an  agitated  curiosity. 

He  glanced  in  at  our  open  front  door  as  he 
passed,  but  hurried  on,  entered  his  own  door 


Bee  Applies  a   Counter   Irritant   271 

and  appeared  behind  the  bricklayers  at  the  con 
necting  doors  of  the  two  studios. 

We  looked  up  pleasantly  and  waited  for  him 
to  begin. 

"  Pardon  my  intrusion,"  he  began,  in  a  tone 
of  honeyed  sarcasm,  "  but  may  I  inquire  what 
architectural  designs  you  seem  to  have  planned 
upon  my  property  ?  " 

"  It  has  been  done  to  avoid  unpleasantness, 
Mr.  Munson.  Please  believe  that,  before  we 
explain,"  said  Bee  quickly. 

She  needn't  have  hurried.  I  didn't  know 
what  to  say  and  neither  did  Jimmie. 

"  To  avoid  unpleasantness !  "  repeated  Mun 
son  with  delicate  emphasis. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Bee  softly.  "  Knowing,  as 
we  all  do,  upon  what  friendly  terms  Mrs.  Jar- 
dine  has  always  been  with  you,  we  naturally 
considered  your  feelings  in  the  present  un 
happy  situation,  and  closed  communication 
between  two  families,  both  endowed  with  flu 
ent  conversational  ability,  before  a  final  breach 
could  occur." 

Munson  stepped  over  the  bricks  in  his 
feminine  curiosity. 

"  The  present  unhappy  situation !  "  he  re 
peated.  "  May  I  inquire  to  what  you  re 
fer?" 


272    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

My  teeth  chattered  for  fear  he  would  ask 
me. 

Bee  looked  around  vaguely. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  she  murmured,  "  that  even 
yet  he  does  not  know !  " 

This  implied  slur  upon  his  intelligence 
brought  the  vain  red  into  Munson's  cheeks. 

"  I  think  I  don't  quite  understand !  "  he  said 
tentatively. 

"  It  seems  impossible  that  you  should  not," 
said  Bee,  "  in  which  case  I  must  explain." 

Jimmie's  eagerness  to  know  too,  caused  him 
to  take  a  step  toward  Bee,  which  brought  a 
twitch  to  Bee's  lips  and  a  twitch  to  his  coat 
tails  from  me,  at  which  hint  he  came  to  him 
self  and  gazed  nonchalantly  at  the  ceiling. 

'  Your  continued  refusal  to  have  the  leak  in 
Mrs.  Jardine's  bedroom  repaired  has  been 
brought  to  the  attention  of  the  Board  of 
Health,  and  I  have  here  an  order  from  the 
Commissioner  —  " 

Munson's  face  flamed. 

"I  —  I  beg  your  pardon!"  he  stammered. 
"  I  was  not  aware  —  I  did  not  know  - 

He  stopped  because  of  my  look. 

"  It  shall  be  attended  to  at  once,"  he  said. 
"  I  will  speak  about  it  at  the  very  next  meeting 
of  the  Building  Committee." 

"  And  leave  my  sister  to  occupy  a  bedroom 


Bee  Applies  a  Counter  Irritant  273 

with  fungus  on.  the  walls  two  inches  long?" 
inquired  Bee.  "  Indeed,  Mr.  Munson,  if  I  may 
take  the  liberty  of  saying  so,  you  take  a  singu 
lar  view  of  the  length  of  time  Mrs.  Jardine 
intends  to  suffer  in  silence.  Protests  have  al 
ready  gone  to  the  chairman  of  the  Building 
Committee,  signed  by  myself  and  Jimmie  as 
witnesses  and  quoting  this  order  from  the 
Board  of  Health." 

Munson  laughed  irritatingly. 

"  Mrs.  Jardine's  habit  of  suffering  in  si 
lence  is,  indeed,  well  known  to  her  admiring 
friends,"  said  Munson  sarcastically.  "  I  hap 
pen  to  know  that  at  a  dinner  party  very  re 
cently,  she  publicly  complained  of  her  distress 
at  having  caught  cold  from  sleeping  in  a  damp 
bedroom  and  cas^t  a  slur  upon  me  in  my  capac 
ity  as  landlord." 

"  And  I  happen  to  know,"  retorted  Jimmie, 
"  that  she  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  slurs 
were  cast  by  myself  and  Aubrey  Jardine  and 
Dr.  Bragg  —  the  very  tattler  who  carried  the 
gossip  to  you,  Ed  Munson  —  and  what  Faith 
said  was  that  the  delight  of  your  conversation 
more  than  outweighed  the  dampness  of  a 
bedroom  wall!  But  Faith  always  is  the 
goat!" 

"  And  I  have  always  been,"  I  burst  out  bit 
terly,  "  ever  since  I  was  ten  years  old !  " 


274    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  And  what  were  you  before  that?  "  sneered 
Munson. 

"  Before  that  I  was  nothing  but  a  kid ! "  I 
answered. 

We  are  a  queer  set  and  no  mistake.  There 
we  were,  "  all  het  up  "  as  Dr.  Bragg  would 
say,  and  fairly  spoiling  for  a  fight,  literally 
falling  into  each  other's  arms  over  a  foolish 
joke,  which,  one  half  second  before  it  was  ut 
tered  had  been  as  far  from  my  mind  as  the 
North  Pole. 

Munson's  conduct,  however,  was  the  most 
amazing.  He  came  up  to  me  and  offered  his 
hand. 

"  I  can  never  quarrel  with  a  woman  capable 
of  that,"  he  said,  with  a  forgiving  smile.  "  I 
must  catch  the  five-forty  back,  so  I  must  hurry. 
Have  those  bricks  taken  away  and  the  leak  will 
be  attended  to  at  once  —  to-morrow.  By  the 
way,  may  I  have  just  a  peg  before  I  go? 
Thanks,  awfully." 

Jimmie  attended  to  his  wants  and  Munson 
pledged  us  fluently  and  gracefully  in  a  little 
speech. 

Then  he  sat  down  his  glass,  consulted  his 
watch,  took  up  his  silk  hat,  shook  hands  with 
us  all  around  regardless  of  the  queer  looks  on 
our  faces,  and  said  good-bye. 


Bee  Applies  a  Counter  Irritant  275 

He  turned  at  the  door  and  came  back  nerv 
ously  rubbing  his  hat  the  wrong  way. 

"  Oh,  Eleanor  begged  me  to  say,  Mrs. 
Jardine,  that  if  you  had  no  objection  we  would 
like  to  borrow  the  apartment  from  you  next 
Friday  and  give  a  reception  in  your  studio 
and  a  picture  exhibit  in  ours  —  throwing  the 
two  together,  of  course.  And  —  and  —  as 
most  of  our  friends  are  not  aware  that  we  have 
unfortunately  been  obliged  to  sublet  our  studio, 
and  know  nothing  of  your  tenancy,  she  begs 
to  know  if  you  will  wear  a  hat  and  come  in  at 
the  street  door  like  any  other  guest !  " 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
ELEANOR'S  RECEPTION  AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  IT 

I  HAVE  felt  foolish  before,  but  I  never 
felt  a  completer  idiot  than  I  did  at  Elea 
nor  Munson's  reception  in  my  studio, 
walking  around  all  the  afternoon,  clad  in  my 
best  and  wearing  hat  and  gloves. 

I  sternly  refused  to  come  in  from  the  street 
in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and  send  in  my 
card  as  she  wanted  me  to  do.  I  was  there 
when  the  thing  started  and  to  the  earliest 
guest  I  appeared  already  placed. 

My  sense  of  humour  or  my  common  sense, 
if  you  please,  simply  wouldn't  let  me  go  out 
of  my  way  to  make  a  fool  of  myself.  I  am 
never  one  to  think  myself  the  only  person  to 
possess  a  brain,  and  on  this  occasion  I  give 
even  the  wayfaring  man  credit  for  the  possi 
bility  of  putting  two  and  two  together  and  ar 
riving  at  the  conclusion  that  they  make  four, 
even  if  the  Munsons  did  continue  to  ejaculate 
five  and  six  as  the  proper  answer  to  the  ques 
tion  of  the  afternoon. 

How  did  they  know  how  many  persons 
276 


Eleanor's  Reception  277 

knew  the  apartment  was  mine  and  wondered 
at  the  change  of  hostesses? 

But  no.  They  even  bore  in  silence  the  com 
ments  of  their  intimates  on  the  amount  of  new 
furniture  (ours)  they  had  bought  since  their 
last  inspection,  and  thus  they  carried  off,  by  a 
superiority  or  effrontery  or  fluke  of  luck,  a 
situation  which  would  have  had  me  grovelling 
in  the  dust  and  choking  with  eager  and  unnec 
essarily  fluent  explanations  to  total  and  indif 
ferent  strangers. 

But  the  Munsons  had  no  sense  of  humour. 
I  decided  it  finally  that  afternoon.  Eleanor 
had  only  an  intellectual  appreciation  of  it  in 
others,  and  Munson  had  an  understanding  of 
the  ridiculous  and  a  cynical  wit  which  often 
passed  for  humour.  But  Munson's  witticisms 
generally  left  a  fine  line  of  blood  behind  them, 
like  the  scratches  of  a  playful  cat. 

Bee  was  there  in  a  costume  of  subdued  woe 
which  made  every  woman  there  willing  to  go 
into  mourning,  if  they  could  only  hope  to  equal 
her  get-up.  It  represented  The  Widow  Begin 
ning  to  Take  Notice  in  a  living  picture. 

Bob  Mygatt  was  there  too,  and  Laflin  Van 
Tassel  and  Mrs.  Keep  and  the  Jimmies,  and 
our  dear  Lyddy  and  Hope  Loring  and  her  hus 
band,  Cedric  Hamilton,  and  Sallie  and  Nor 
man  Fitzhugh  and  Lord  and  Lady  Abernethy. 


278   The   Concentrations   of  Bee 

I  was  in  the  act  of  trying  to  get  Patricia  to 
let  Eleanor  paint  her  portrait  when  Jimmie 
and  Aubrey  overheard  me,  and  separated  us 
as  quickly  and  quietly  as  if  we  had  been  about 
to  spring  at  each  other's  throats. 

But  Bee,  who  generally  revelled  in  recep 
tions  and  such  like,  scarcely  spoke,  unless  ad 
dressed.  She  even  ignored  Laflin's  presence 
almost  to  the  point  of  avoidance,  while  as  for 
Laflin,  he  stood  off  in  a  corner  and  followed 
her  every  movement  with  his  eyes. 

I  thought  to  give  matters  an  onward  fillip 
on  my  own  account  by  stirring  Lyddy  up  to 
naming  the  happy  day  the  very  moment  Bob 
got  his  divorce,  and  my  opportunity  came  at 
Eleanor's  reception  and  at  the  supper  after 
ward,  which  happened  in  this  wise. 

Jimmie  came  up  and  whispered  in  my  ear : 

"  Come  up  in  the  balcony  with  me  quick. 
Got  some  great  news  for  you !  " 

When  we  were  alone,  we  hid  behind  the 
palms,  where  nobody  could  see  us,  but  where 
we  could  see  everybody  in  the  studio,  and  then 
Jimmie  said : 

"  Know  what's  the  matter  with  Bee  ?  " 

"No,  what?" 

"  See  that  girl  walking  around  by  herself  — 
the  one  with  an  Orange  County  fruit  farm  on 
her  hat?" 


Eleanor's  Reception  279 

"Yes,  who  is  it?" 

"  Her  name  is  Laura  Clyde.  She  is  after 
Laflin  Van  Tassel  hot  foot  and  she  told  Sallie 
Fitzhugh  she  was  engaged  to  him.  I  acci 
dentally  overheard  Sallie  telling  Bee  —  honest, 
it  was  accidental !  You  needn't  look  at  me  like 
that!  And  how  could  I  have  told  you  if  I 
hadn't  overheard  ?  " 

"  Do  you  suppose  she  really  is,  or  is  that  a 
ruse  of  hers  to  touch  Bee's  pride  and  induce 
her  to  draw  off?  " 

"  Exactly  my  own  conclusions !  "  cried  Jim- 
mie.  "  She  isn't  the  real  thing  and  I  don't 
believe  Laflin  is  taken  in.  But  he  is  a  godly 
young  person  and  this  Miss  Laura  Clyde  is 
fishing  for  him  with  religious  angle-worms, 
so  to  speak." 

"  So,"  I  said,  "  so  that's  what's  been  the 
matter  with  Bee  for  the  last  few  weeks!  I 
wonder  how  it  will  turn  out !  " 

"  You  wonder,  do  you  ?  Well,  I'll  tell  you 
how  it  will  turn  out.  If  Bee  finds  out  that  it 
is  true  and  isn't  prepared  to  give  up  the  chase 
she  will  manage  things  so  that  Laflin  will  jump 
his  trolley.  She  won't  let  him  get  away,  nor 
she  won't  turn  pious  to  please  him.  She  tried 
it  for  a  while,  but  it  bored  our  charming  young 
widow  to  the  verge  of  extinction.  Didn't  you 
hear  her  serve  notice  on  us  the  other  night? 


280   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Bee  simply  '  won't  be  put  upon,'  as  our  gentle 
domestics  have  it.  And  if  I  mistake  not  the 
signs,  Bee  is  going  to  fire  her  first  gun  this 
blessed  day." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"  Cuz  she  asked  me  and  Mary  and  Laflin 
to  stay  a  few  minutes  after  everybody  goes." 

"  Tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  I  said.  "  I'll  order 
in  a  few  things  and  we'll  have  a  little  supper 
instead  of  dinner." 

"  Turn  me  loose  in  the  kitchen,  Faith,  and 
I'll  make  a  cup,"  said  Jimmie,  diving  for  his 
coat  and  hat.  "  And  —  and,  Faith !  One  min 
ute!  As  you  can't  use  either  of  these  tele 
phones,  you'd  better  let  me  order  the  sup 
per!" 

Verily  this  seemed  to  be  my  day  to  enter 
tain  by  proxy ! 

I  let  Jimmie  out  at  the  mezzanine  door  and 
sought  out  Bee. 

"  Jimmie  has  just  gone  out  to  order  a  little 
supper  sent  in,"  I  murmured,  "  and  I  think  I'll 
ask  Bob  and  Laflin  to  stay.  Do  you  want  any 
body  else  ?  " 

Bee's  face  lighted  up  as  if  by  magic. 

'The  very  thing!"  she  said,  catching  my 
wrist.  "  Ask  Eleanor's  friend,  Miss  Clyde, 
and  Lyddy." 

"Lyddy!    Oh,  Bee,  must  I?" 


Eleanor's  Reception  281 

"  You  must !  Don't  kick !  And  the  Mun- 
sons !  Oh,  this  is  almost  too  good  to  be  true !  " 

"What  is?" 

"  Faith,  don't  ask  any  questions,  but  help  me 
as  only  you  will  know  how  to,  when  the  time 
comes !  " 

"  You  mean  —  Miss  Clyde?  " 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  "  asked  Bee.  "  But 
I'm  glad  you  do,  for  I  rather  feel  that  I  am 
dealing  with  an  unknown  quantity  in  that 
young  woman." 

"  If  you  want  my  opinion,"  I  said  bluntly, 
"  this  Miss  Clyde  is  what  old  Mary  would  call 
'  a  little  blister ! '  But  I'll  help  —  no  matter 
what  she  is." 


CHAPTER    XIX 

IN   WHICH    BEE  SURMOUNTS   ANOTHER 
OBSTACLE 

JIMMIE'S  supper  on  my  china  in  the  stu 
dio,  borrowed  from  me  for  the  day  by 
the  Munsons,  was  a  great  success. 
Only    Aubrey    accidentally    spoiled    things 
some  by  saying: 

"  In  some  ways,  my  wife  is  like  a  man.  She 
always  remembers  that  men  want  to  eat  even 
after  a  lady's  reception.  At  home,  my  mother 
never  had  dinner  on  the  days  she  gave  lunch 
eons  or  teas.  She  always  said  she  wasn't  hun- 

gry." 

I  ought  to  have  kept  still,  but  I  blurted  out : 

"  I  regret  to  be  obliged  to  tell  you,  dear, 
that  this  is  Jimmie's  supper!  " 

"  It  was  your  idea,  wasn't  it,  you,  — 
you  — "  Jimmie  hesitates  to  call  me  names 
right  out,  but  his  face  was  red  with  embar 
rassment  under  his  wife's  approving  glances. 

Ever  since  we  had  had  to  borrow  money, 
Jimmie  has  used  every  effort  to  contribute  to 
282 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  283 

our  support,  short  of  abstracting  our  bills  from 
the  postman  and  sending  them  back  receipted. 

Mrs.  Keep  smiled  her  slow  smile  under 
which  Jimmie  writhed  helplessly.  Jimmie 
sickens  and  droops  under  public  approval  and 
only  thrives  on  abuse. 

Wherefore  he  always  enjoys  the  best  of 
health  in  my  vicinage. 

I  have  never  seen  Bee  so  —  well,  so  alive  as 
she  was  that  night.  She  seemed  like  a  lumi 
nous  live  wire,  but  I  could  not  understand  why 
she  and  Bob  exchanged  glances  occasionally, 
which  were  replete  with  secret  understanding. 
Was  it  because  they  were  both  in  bondage  to 
circumstance  and  applying  their  wits  to  an  ex 
trication  which  would  seem  to  the  lay  mind  an 
impossibility? 

I  managed  to  whisper  to  Bob  during  the 
evening : 

"  How  is  it  that  you  and  Bee  understand 
each  other  so  well  ?  What  is  this  wireless  code 
of  signals  you  have  adopted  ?  " 

Bob  laughed. 

"  There  is  no  code,  Highness.  Bee  and  I 
understand  each  other  by  the  same  token  that 
you  and  I  do  —  the  bond  of  iniquity  —  sub 
merged  iniquity,  which  binds  criminals  of  the 
higher  class  together.  You  understand  me  just 
in  proportion  to  your  own  wickedness  and  you 


284  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

love  me  because  of  your  sense  of  humour.  If 
it  wasn't  for  that  you'd  hate  me.  But  don't 
ever  hate  me,  Faith,"  added  the  idiot  passion 
ately,  "or  I'll  die!" 

As  he  carefully  raised  his  voice  during  this 
last  speech  so  that  Lyddy  could  not  fail  to  hear 
him,  I  could  have  slapped  him. 

And  as  she  reared  her  head  and  slowly  grew 
majenta,  Bob  snickered. 

Fortunately  Munson  saved  the  situation  just 
here  by  asking  for  another  whiskey  and  soda. 
As  it  was  his  third  Eleanor  shot  him  a  warning 
glance,  to  which  he  replied  aloud,  as  is  the 
custom  of  some  husbands  when  in  pursuit  of 
their  third. 

Bee  endeavoured  to  seat  Miss  Clyde  next  to 
Laflin,  but  that  astute  young  woman  with  an 
ease  which  baffled  my  sister's  best  efforts 
chose  a  place  opposite  to  him,  whereupon  Bee 
established  herself  as  far  away  from  them  both 
as  possible  and  evidently  counted  on  me  as  a 
scout  to  circle  around  and  make  reports. 

Miss  Clyde  was  a  remarkable  looking  girl 
even  in  this  day  of  a  fashion  by  which  the 
most  ordinary  may  make  themselves  conspicu 
ous.  She  was  very  pretty,  having  loose  curl 
ing  strands  of  her  hair  hanging  down  on  either 
side  of  her  face  and  blowing  across  her  fore 
head. 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  285 

It  sounds  horrid  to  describe  it,  but  it  was 
artistic  and  effective  on  her.  Her  empire 
gown  hung  loosely  on  her  slim  figure.  Her 
great  hat,  which  she  refused  to  remove,  shad 
owed  her  face.  Her  lace  sleeves  wrinkled  on 
her  slender,  rounded  arms  and  came  over  her 
thin  hands  to  her  heavily  ringed  fingers. 

She  made  a  striking  and  effective  picture, 
except  that  her  eyes  were  queer.  They  were  a 
clear  green  and  she  seldom  opened  them  wide. 
She  kept  them  narrowed  and  she  peered  at 
people  out  of  these  green  slits  like  a  sleepy  cat. 

They  were  not  pretty,  but  no  one  who  ever 
looked  at  them,  failed  to  look  again  and  yet 
again,  and  sometimes  people  seemed  able  to 
look  nowhere  else  when  she  was  around. 

She  fastened  these  compelling  eyes  of  hers 
on  Laflin  the  moment  we  were  seated,  and  al 
though  he  vainly  endeavoured  to  refuse  to  re 
spond,  he  found  himself  yielding  more  and 
more  to  their  spell. 

It  was  Jimmie  who  blurted  out  at  one  end 
of  the  table : 

"  I  do  believe  she's  trying  to  hypnotize 
him!" 

It  shocked  most  of  us  who  heard.  Only 
Eleanor  Munson  showed  her  utter  unconcern 
and  lack  of  responsibility  to  anybody,  by  re 
marking  indifferently: 


286  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"I've  been  told  she  can  do  it  as  completely 
as  a  professional.  It  would  be  rather  amusing 
to  see  it  demonstrated  on  some  one  we  know, 
wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  would  be  horrid!  "  I  answered. 

Eleanor  smiled  her  slow,  superior,  irritating 
smile  which  the  self-conscious  artist  bestows 
on  the  rest  of  the  world. 

"  You  know  I  do  not  believe  in  the  ethics 
of  things  as  vehemently  as  you  do,"  she  said 
quietly. 

"  What  do  you  believe  in?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  believe  in  reaching  out  and  taking  what 
ever  one  wants  in  this  world,  which  could  pos 
sibly  add  to  one's  happiness,"  she  replied. 

"Regardless  of  the  rights  of  others?" 
asked  Bee. 

"  Rights  of  others  is  a  relative  term,"  she 
answered.  "  Everything  has  been  stolen  from 
somebody  else  first.  What  I  regard  as  my 
rights  to-day,  possibly  I  appropriated  from  an 
other  a  week  ago.  No  man  ever  married  and 
became  the  legal  property  of  one  woman  who 
did  not  belong,  in  the  eyes  of  some  other 
woman,  to  her,  morally  or  ethically  or  what 
ever  you  choose  to  call  it.  Therefore  the 
words  '  my  rights  '  depend  upon  who  speaks 
them.  Which  brings  me  back  to  my  original 
statement." 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  287 

Laura  Clyde  was  evidently  a  companion 
spirit  of  Eleanor  Munson's,  as  well  as  her 
guest,  for  she  overheard  the  latter  part  of 
these  remarks  and  looked  at  us. 

Bob,  who  always  scented  mischief  a  mile 
away,  asked  deferentially: 

"  Did  you  hear  that,  Miss  Clyde,  and  do 
you  agree  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  purred  the  girl,  narrowing  her 
eyes  at  Laflin.  "  I  have  no  desire  to  appropri 
ate  the  property  of  another  woman.  I 
might  —  "  here  she  looked  squarely  at  Bee  — 
"  I  might  dispute  her  rights.  I  might  lay 
plans  to  circumvent  a  rival,  but  I  would  never 
fight  a  losing  game." 

My  sister  regarded  this  extraordinary  girl 
attentively.  She  showed  no  vexation  nor  ap 
prehension,  but  like  a  good  general  she  was 
learning  the  enemy's  tactics. 

"  Oh,"  moaned  Bob,  "  how  I  wish  you  girls 
would  squabble  about  me.  I  hate  to  have  such 
divinely  interesting  possibilities  even  men 
tioned  regarding  another  fellow,  when  I  am 
so  near  at  hand  and  so  worthy  of  your  obser 
vation,  your  attentions  —  I  may  say,  of  your 
love!" 

"  I  should  think,"  said  Lyddy  acidly,  "  that 
you  had  had  about  enough  of  women  squab 
bling  over  you ! " 


288    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

This  was  a  bomb  sure  enough,  for  Lyddy 
had  never  before  dared  to  bait  Bob. 

He  did  not  even  turn  his  head  in  her  direc 
tion,  but  his  very  ears  grew  hot  as  the  blood 
rose. 

Then  began  poor  Lyddy's  punishment,  for 
Bob  drew  his  chair  close  to  Miss  Clyde's  and 
for  half  an  hour  he  murmured  idiotic  love  to 
her,  carefully  raising  his  voice  whenever  there 
was  a  chance  of  Lyddy's  hearing. 

The  girl  answered  in  kind,  but  every  ardent 
word  she  spoke,  she  directed  not  at  Bob,  but 
at  Laflin  Van  Tassel,  nor  for  one  moment  did 
she  remove  the  green,  sleepy  gleam  of  her 
compelling  eyes  from  his  face. 

This  double  game  seemed  to  fascinate  Bob, 
for  he  flung  himself  more  and  more  ardently 
into  it,  until  I  decided  that  it  was  time  to  re 
lieve  the  tension. 

I  have  said  before  that  I  hate  to  hear  open 
love-making,  and  for  a  few  moments,  I  cast 
vainly  about  for  a  way  to  punish  Bob  for  his 
evening's  work. 

Suddenly  I  thought  of  Lyddy,  and  when  no 
one  was  observing  me,  I  slipped  into  a  vacant 
chair  beside  her. 

"  Lyddy,"  I  whispered,  "  I  hate  to  hear 
Bob  talking  like  this,  for  after  all,  you  know  he 
is  engaged  to  you  —  he  is  really  your  prop- 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  289 

erty.  Yet  you  heard  Miss  Clyde  say  she 
would  go  after  any  man  she  wanted  and  get 
him  away  from  her  rival  —  " 

I  really  did  not  look  for  so  much  success. 
At  my  half  expressed  idea  Lyddy  clutched  my 
arm  and  turned  purple  in  the  face. 

"  Faith,"  she  gasped.  "  Faith !  Help  me  to 
get  him  out  of  it,  and  I'll  do  anything  in  the 
world  you  want  me  to !  I'll  —  I'll  make  you 
a  present  —  a  handsome  present !  I'll  even  go 
so  far  —  " 

"  You've  gone  far  enough,  Lyddy!  "  I  said 
severely.  "  I'll  help  you  for  nothing,  if  you'll 
only  keep  quiet.  Let  me  think!  How  long 
is  it  before  Bob's  wife  can  get  her  divorce?" 

"  The  six  months  will  be  up  on  the  2Oth  of 
April,  and  it  is  now  the  29th  of  March." 

"Three  weeks,"  I  said.  "Well,  get  Bob 
to  consent  to  be  married  about  the  first  of  May 
and  then  promise  to  take  him  abroad  if  he  will 
give  up  this  promiscuous  love-making.  It  is 
dangerous,  Lyddy." 

Again  she  gasped. 

"I  will,"  she  whispered.  "I  will!  I'll 
have  it  out  with  him  to-night.  I'll  never  for 
get  that  you  suggested  helping  me,  Faith  Jar- 
dine!  I  don't  believe  I  ever  understood  you 
before.  Perhaps  I  have  done  you  an  injustice 
in  my  thoughts." 


290   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  did  a  little  gasping  on  my  own  account 
just  here. 

To  think  of  stiff-necked  old  Lyddy  acknowl 
edging  that  she  might  be  in  the  wrong!  Per 
haps  I  had  not  always  done  her  justice,  and 
not  to  be  outdone  in  courtesy,  I  hastened  to 
say  so. 

But  she  scarcely  heard  me.  She  was  watch 
ing  Bob,  who  had  twitched  his  chair  closer  to 
Miss  Clyde's  and  was  now  whispering  to  her. 

Laflin  watched  her  in  fascinated  silence,  un 
til  suddenly  she  leaned  slightly  forward  and 
said : 

"  I  am  very  tired.     I  must  go." 

Instantly  he  replied  to  her  as  if  she  had 
commanded  him: 

"  May  I  take  you  home?  " 

The  girl  smiled  and  turning  her  head  side 
ways,  she  shot  a  look  of  bright  malice  at  Bee. 

Again  my  sister  controlled  herself. 

People  got  up  and  the  Munsons  prepared 
to  go.  They  were  to  spend  the  night  with 
friends  in  town. 

Miss  Clyde  came  to  say  good-night.  She 
spoke  first  to  me,  then  she  turned  to  Bee. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said.  "  We  can  never 
be  friends,  because  we  both  want  the  same 
man  and  I  expect  to  get  him,  even  if  I  have 
to  propose  to  him  myself." 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  291 

Although  Miss  Qyde  lowered  her  voice  so 
that  the  men  could  not  hear,  Bee,  Eleanor 
Munson  and  I  heard  distinctly.  I  looked  in 
stinctively  to  see  Eleanor  repudiate  such  vul 
garity,  but  she  only  smiled  her  aloof  smile  and 
said: 

"  She  is  a  direct  little  pagan,  isn't  she?  " 

And  with  a  careless  glance  around  the 
studio,  she  remarked  that  it  had  been  rather 
a  nice  afternoon  and  went. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  her  party,  Bee 
murmured  fiercely  in  my  ear: 

"  Not  one  pitying  look  from  you !  I  am  a 
match  for  her.  Burst  out  laughing,  stupid! 
I'm  going  to!  " 

And  she  laughed  so  close  to  my  ear  that  I 
jumped  and  bit  my  tongue. 

But  Bee  was  able  to  control  not  only  others 
but  herself  —  a  far  more  difficult  task,  from 
my  point  of  view.  And  she  was  the  life  of 
the  party  until  everybody  left,  whereupon  she 
kissed  me  in  a  tired  way  and  the  Jimmies  took 
her  home,  together  with  Lyddy  and  Bob. 

It  must  have  been  two  weeks  later  when 
Bee  next  spoke  to  me  of  Laura  Clyde. 

In  the  meantime  Bee  had  never  once  sent 
for  Laflin  even  when  she  needed  to  see  him 
on  business  about  the  new  house,  which  was 
now  being  built.  When  she  needed  him,  she 


292  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

wrote  what  she  wanted  and  sent  him  out 
alone.  All  the  opportunities  for  being  in  his 
society  she  pointedly  neglected. 

Finally  one  morning  she  showed  me  the  fol 
lowing  extraordinary  letter. 

'"  Read  this,"  she  said.  "  It  is  from  Miss 
Clyde,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it." 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Lathrop,"  it  ran.  "  You  will 
not  be  in  the  least  surprised  to  receive  this 
letter,  because,  after  what  I  said  to  you  the 
last  time  we  met,  you  will  have  been  waiting 
to  hear  from  me. 

"  I  did  just  what  I  said  I  would.  I  asked 
him  to  marry  me,  and  I've  never  heard  any 
thing  quite  so  awkward  and  painful  and  ab 
surd  as  he  was  in  the  way  he  refused  me. 

"  For  refuse  me  he  did,  and  I  feel  that  you 
have  a  right  to  know  it  for  the  game  way  you 
have  left  the  field  clear  to  me. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  your  very  gameness  which 
hurried  me  into  precipitancy.  I  was  getting 
on,  and  perhaps,  if  I  had  waited,  I  could  have 
got  him.  But  I  don't  know. 

"  It  may  interest  you  to  know  how  I  man 
aged  to  get  him  out  of  your  toils'  with  such 
apparent  ease  and  celerity.  I  was  in  the  per 
gola  at  Coolmeath  when  you  made  your 
famous  volte  face  on  the  subject  of  architec 
ture  and  I  told  him  about  it. 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  293 

"  It  will  give  you  some  work  to  get  around 
his  suspicion  of  your  sincerity,  but  as  my  en 
gagement  to  another  man  will  be  announced 
Sunday,  this  will  help  you  —  if  you  need  help, 
which  I  doubt. 

"  Only  one  word  more,  which  believe  me, 
I  offer  in  the  friendliest  spirit. 

"  You  are  going  to  have  trouble  in  making 
him  propose,  because  he  is  simply  a  mass  of 
putty,  with  only  an  imitation  spine. 

"  Good-bye  and  good  luck.     The  bank-roll 
of  the  man  I  got  is  not  so  wide  as  a  church 
door,  nor  so  deep  as  a  well,  but  'twill  serve. 
"  Very  sincerely  yours, 

"  LAURA  CLYDE." 

I  dropped  my  hands  helplessly  at  my  side 
when  I  finished,  and  Bee  took  the  letter  from 
my  nerveless  fingers  and  held  it  carefully  with 
the  tongs  over  the  gas  log. 

"  Well,"  she  said  tentatively. 

"  Well,"  I  repeated,  "  that's  the  most  curi 
ous  thing  I  ever  read.  It's  a  human  document, 
but  somehow,  in  spite  of  its  frankness,  it  seems 
not  as  revolting  as  it  should,  because  it's  so 
sportsman  like!  " 

"  She  didn't  care  for  him  at  all,"  said  Bee. 
"  I  was  afraid,  at  first,  she  did." 

"  Do  you?  "  I  exclaimed  suddenly. 


294   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

Then,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  saw 
my  sister's  face  flush  with  honest  feeling. 

"  Why,  Bee!  "  I  cried.  "  I  didn't  know !  I 
rather  thought  — 

"  It  was,  at  first,"  answered  Bee.  "  Then  I 
got  to  know  him  and  I  found  that  it  would  have 
been  the  same  even  if  he  hadn't  had  a  cent." 

"  But  don't  you  think  part  of  what  this  girl 
said  is  true?  He  is  vacillating  and  /  think  he 
is  soft." 

Bee  leaned  forward. 

"  Do  you  remember  James?  "  she  said.  "  I 
have  had  one  husband  of  firm  will,  unbending 
purpose  and  strong  determination.  I  think 
now  I  will  take  my  chance  with  one  where  in 
fluence  counts  for  something.  Poor  James! 
I  think  one  reason  for  my  great  unhappiness 
with  him  was  because  my  one  characteristic  — 
the  one  you  and  Jimmie  make  such  a  fuss 
about — my  ability  to  handle  people  and  circum 
stances,  was  entirely  lost  on  such  material  as 
James.  It  wore  me  out  to  try  to  influence  him, 
so  I  gave  it  up.  With  Laflin,  it  will  be  easy." 

'  Then  you  think  —  "I  began  dubiously. 

Bee  smiled. 

"  I  think  that  in  the  year  this  poor  man 
has  been  a  millionaire,  he  has  been  more  run 
after  than  anyone  I  ever  knew  in  my  life.  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  go  carefully,  but  —  " 


Bee  Surmounts  Another  Obstacle  295 

I  smiled  at  the  triumphant  note  in  her  voice. 
What  if,  after  all,  her  plans  should  miscarry? 

"  How  about  his  suspicions  of  your  sincerity 
about  the  house  ?  You  told  me  he  thought  you 
were  going  to  live  there,  but  that  you  meant 
to  rent  it." 

"'I  know,"  said  Bee.  "But  I  have  fully 
decided  to  furnish  and  live  in  it." 

"  But  won't  you  hate  that?  Its  divine 
beauty  never  did  appeal  to  you." 

"  He  loves  it  so,  that  if  —  when  we  are  mar 
ried,  I  mean,  he  would  probably  have  insisted 
on  living  there  anyway,  so  I'll  simply  begin  to 
order  decorations  and  furniture,  which  will 
refute  his  suspicions  without  a  word  from  me." 

"  But  Bee,  that's,  of  course,  terribly  clever, 
but  how  you  will  hate  living  in  that  isolated 
place!" 

Bee  smiled. 

"  I  sha'n't  mind  it  for  a  while!  " 

"  But  suppose  he  wants  to  stay !  " 

"He  won't,"  smiled  Bee.  "Things  will 
happen.  They  always  do.  He  will  suggest 
moving!  " 

Yea,  verily! 

"  Well,"  I  said.  "  I  can  only  repeat  Laura 
Clyde's  words,  '  Good-bye  and  good  luck  to 
you!'" 


CHAPTER    XX 

PLANS 

I  CAN  never  understand  why  I  am  to 
blame  for  everything  which  is,  as  Bob 
says,  "  moral  but  distasteful,"  but  the 
fact  remains  that  Bob  blames  me  for  his  hav 
ing  at  last  been  driven  to  bay  and  having  to 
marry  Lyddy. 

1  think  he  had  rather  hoped  to  go  for  a  year, 
or  possibly  more,  in  a  state  of  engaged  free 
dom,  pensioned  and  happy,  but  I,  who  never 
look  in  more  than  one  direction,  before  I  leap 
(which  accounts  for  an  occasional  landing  in 
mud  puddles,  up  to  my  knees),  had,  in  order 
to  punish  him,  urged  Lyddy  to  get  Bob  out  of 
his  shocking  probation. 

Nor  can  I  yet  see  that  I  did  wrong.  Bob 
had  no  business  to  be  left  free  to  make  love 
to  every  woman  he  saw. 

And  I  said  so,  when  he  accused  me. 

"  I  was  a  free  man  when  I  entered  into  that 
ill-starred  flirtation,  queen  of  my  heart,  and 
296 


Plans  297 

although  I  have  seldom  enjoyed  anything 
more  than  the  sight  of  Lyddy's  angel  face 
while  I  was  making  love  to  that  little  Miss 
Clyde  of  Laflin's,  yet,  owing  to  your  inter 
ference,  Lyddy  nailed  me  for  the  role  of  Bene 
dict  on  May  first.  Just  think  of  it!  I'm  to 
be  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  queen 
of  the  May!  If  you  are  awake,  will  you  call 
me  early  ?  " 

He  made  a  wry  face,  got  up,  dropped  his 
cigar  into  the  rose- jar,  lighted  a  cigarette  and 
then  continued : 

"  I  don't  like  it,  Ladybird !  I  tell  you,  I 
don't  want  to  marry.  I  didn't  even  want  to 
marry  Ava.  I  just  like  to  be  engaged.  An 
engagement  has  privileges  and  no  responsibili 
ties!" 

"  Bob  Mygatt !  "  I  began  explosively. 

But  Bob  hurriedly  interrupted  me. 

"  Did  you  know  that  Ava  and  Shupe  are 
married  ?  "  he  asked  hastily. 

"No!    Are  they?" 

"  Married !  And  Shupe  has  re-written 
'  our  '  play,  '  The  Alligator  Pear  Tree/  — 
ruining  it,  to  my  mind,  -but  still  he  has  got  an 
'  angel '  to  produce  it,  and  I  suppose  it  will 
make  a  hit !  " 

"Did  you  give  the  play  back  to  him?"  I 
asked. 


298    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

Bob  nodded. 

"Without  any  string  to  it?"  I  demanded 
suspiciously. 

Bob  looked  at  me  reproachfully. 

"  How  you  do  suspect  one !  "  he  murmured. 

"But  did  you?" 

"  Don't  stamp  your  foot  at  me  like  that, 
White  Princess !  You  scare  me  so  I  can't  talk. 
Well  then,  I  did  retain  a  ten  per  cent,  interest 
in  it,  on  account  of  all  my  work  on  it.  The 
thing  was  rotten  when  I  took  it!  " 

"  '  Took  it '  is  good !  "  I  said  scathingly. 
"  When  you  stole  it !  " 

Bob's  face  flushed  such  an  agonized  red  that 
I  immediately  repented  my  brutality.  It's 
funny  how  sensitive  dishonourable  people  are. 
Now  if  I  had  been  able  to  get  my  own  consent 
to  steal  that  play,  you  could  have  called  me  a 
thief  quite  openly,  and  the  verbal  statement  of 
my  deliberately  dishonourable  act  would  not 
have  added  one  whit  to  my  discomfort. 

Not  so  Bob.  He  was  deeply  sensitive  — 
over  having  been  caught  —  and  my  mention  of 
it  pained  him  in  his  tenderest  conceit. 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  said  finally,  "  it's  all  in  a 
life  time,  and  the  only  reason  you  get  blamed 
for  everything  is  because  you  are  always  so 
ready  and  eager  to  jump  into  any  fight  going 
on  —  no  matter  what  it's  all  about  —  and  so 


Plans  299 

gloriously  willing  to  take  sides.  I  think  it  is 
bully  myself." 

"  It  may  be  bully,"  I  said,  smiling  to  think 
what  a  lot  of  fun  I  have  had  fighting  with 
Jimmie,  "  but  I  get  into  heaps  of  trouble  by 
it." 

"  I  am  always  in  trouble,"  said  Bob  cheer 
fully.  "  Just  now  I  am  worried  to  death  won 
dering  what  my  fair  Lyddy  will  wear  the  day 
she  leads  me  to  the  altar  —  handcuffed  to  a 
couple  of  deputy  sheriffs.  She  does  lean  to 
such  courageous  colours!  I  wonder  if  you 
or  —  " 

"  I  am  no  good  at  a  thing  of  that  kind.  Bee 
is  your  party.  Tell  your  troubles  to  her.  If 
I  attempted  it,  it  would  get  into  the  papers !  " 

"Right  you  are!"  he  said,  throwing  his 
cigarette  stub  into  the  fern  dish,  whence  I  care 
fully  took  it  and  threw  it  —  not  into  his  face, 
as  I  felt  like  doing  and  said  so  —  but  into  an 
ash  tray.  "  I'll  ask  Bee." 

He  stood  up  to  go  and  started  to  kiss  my 
hand,  when  he  happened  to  think  of  something 
else. 

"  Get  on  your  things  and  come  with  me,"  he 
suggested.  "  Then  if  my  darling  financier  is 
there  too  and  I  can't  get  a  word  with  Bee,  you 
can  tell  her." 

It  isn't  far  to  Bee's,  and  when  we  got  there, 


300  The    Concentrations  of  Bee 

Bee  was  making  faces  into  the  telephone  trans 
mitter  and  talking  spasmodically  with  her  eyes 
closed. 

Then  we  heard  her  say : 

"  Well,  come  on  over.  I'm  all  alone.  That 
is  to  say,  only  Bob  and  Faith  are  here." 

"  Well,  of  all  the  nerve !  "  murmured  Bob. 
"  Evidently  we  don't  count  as  much  as  a  two- 
spot.  We  only  take  up  room,  we  do !  " 

Bee  laughed  as  she  hung  up  the  receiver. 

"  Who  was  it  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  Hope  Loring  in  a  fit  over  a  flirtation  Mrs. 
Cox  is  having  with  Jermyn.  She  says  Cedric 
only  laughs  at  her  fears,  but  she  wants  it  put 
a  stop  to,  and  I  think  I  am  just  the  one  who 
can  help  her  out." 

Bee's  eyes  are  gray  when  she  is  at  peace  with 
the  world.  They  were  green  on  this  occasion, 
and  I  could  see  that  she  had  some  neat  plan  in 
mind  to  settle  the  affair  of  the  slain  rose  on  the 
one  hand  and  to  spike  the  guns  of  a  sister- 
widow  on  the  other. 

I  didn't  particularly  envy  Mrs.  Cox  or  Dr. 
Bragg  at  that  moment. 

"  Hope  may  make  her  mind  easy,"  said  Bob, 
"  Mrs.  Cox  has  no  intention  of  marrying  Jer 
myn.  He's  too  poor.  By  the  same  token  Dr. 
Bragg  is  also  safe  —  safer  than  he  wants  to 
be  —  the  old  ninny !  " 


Plans  301 

Presently  Hope  came  in,  radiant  in  the 
smart  clothes  brides  find  one  of  the  perquisites 
of  marriage,  and  looking  quite  lovely. 

Her  sister,  Sallie  Fitzhugh,  was  with  her, 
and  Bob  at  once  began  to  reproach  both  sisters 
with  having  married  before  they  had  fully 
considered  his  attractions,  and  causing  Hope 
to  flush  gloriously  with  the  way  he  called  her 
Mrs.  Hamilton. 

But  he  was  not  allowed  to  distract  their  at 
tention  from  their  main  anxiety,  for  Hope,  in 
her  straightforward,  boyish  way,  plunged  into 
the  heart  of  the  matter,  sweeping  all  conven 
tional  lukewarmness  aside  as  if  positive  of  our 
sympathy  and  interest. 

"  Jermyn  is  so  inexperienced  and  widows 
are  so  clever,"  groaned  Hope,  entirely  for 
getting  that  Bee,  into  whose  face  she  was  gaz 
ing,  was  also  one  of  the  class  she  condemned 
so  sweepingly. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Lathrop !  " 
she  cried  realizing  her  mistake.  "  I  forgot  you 
were  one!  Now,  if  I  am  not  careful,  I'll  go 
on  and  say  '  but  you  are  not  clever  like  Mrs. 
Cox,'  and  so  I'll  simply  make  a  bad  matter 
worse!  But  you  know  what  I  mean,  don't 
you?" 

Hope's  tone  contained  an  agonized  appeal 
which  Bee  could  not  resist. 


302    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

"I  do !  "  she  said  with  conviction. 

"And  you  know  this  Mrs.  Cox?"  asked 
Hope. 

Bee's  tone  was  fervent  and  replete  with 
feeling  as  she  admitted  that  she  knew  the  other 
widow. 

Bob  leaned  back  in  the  window  seat  and 
nursed  his  knee  with  an  expression  of  enjoy 
ment  on  his  face  which  only  appeared  when 
two  or  more  human  beings  were  about  to  fly 
at  each  other's  throats.  At  such  times,  Bob's 
eagerness  to  help  either  combatant  along  was 
truly  touching. 

"  What  makes  you  think  Jermyn  is  inter 
ested  in  Mrs.  Cox?  "  I  asked. 

"  Because  he  won't  let  me  say  a  word 
against  her.  He  says  she  is  innocent  and 
sincere  and  never  encourages  men  to  make  love 
to  her  like  most  wid— 

Hope  stopped  abruptly  and  clapped  her 
hands  over  her  mouth. 

"Oh,  what  is  the  matter  with  me?"  she 
moaned.  "  I  am  here  in  your  house,  asking 
you  to  help  me  and  insulting  you  in  every  sec 
ond  word !  " 

"  Don't  mind !  "  I  said.  "  Bee  isn't  like 
other  widows.  Her  methods  are  entirely  her 
own.  You  could  never  mix  her  work  with  that 


Plans  303 

of  any  other  unattached  female.     It's  so  dif 
ferent." 

Bob  writhed  and  Bee  bit  her  lip. 

"  Do  you  know  a  Dr.  Bragg?  "  she  asked. 

"  I've  met  him,"  said  Hope.  "  Beastly  old 
party!  "  she  added  frankly. 

'  You  must  give  a  dinner  and  bring  Jermyn 
face  to  face  with  Mrs.  Cox  and  Dr.  Bragg," 
said  Bee. 

"Must  I?"  said  Hope,  doubtfully.  "I 
don't  like  Dr.  Bragg  and  Cedric  says  he  is  a 
bounder." 

'''  Th — that's  just  what  he  is !  "  stammered 
Bob.  "  But  I  want  to  be  there  to  see  the  fun. 
Invite  me,  Mrs.  Hamilton!  Please  do!  " 

"  I'll  see  about  it,"  said  Hope,  wrinkling 
her  pretty  nose,  as  she  thought  of  Lyddy. 
"  I'll  make  up  a  party  for  —  can  you  all  come 
two  weeks  from  to-night?" 

Bob's  face  fell. 

'  That's  the  day  of  my  funeral,"  he  said. 
"  It's  May  first !  Have  you  all  forgotten  ?  " 

"  Well,  why  not?  "  said  Bee,  eagerly.  "  It 
would  be  all  the  more  of  an  excuse.  Give 
them  a  bridal  dinner,  Hope.  They  can  be 
married  at  five  o'clock  and  sail  the  next 
day." 

"  Suit    yourselves ! "    said    Bob    carelessly. 


304    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  As  long  as  it's  got  to  be  done,  I  don't  care 
how  it's  handled." 

"Can  you  make  Miss  Lathrop  agree?" 
asked  Sallie  Fitzhugh. 

"  Can  he?  "  I  cried.  "  She's  so  tame,  she'll 
eat  out  of  his  hand." 

"  Bark,  roll  over  and  play  dead,"  added  Bob 
gravely.  "  I've  trained  her  myself." 

Hope  jumped  up  and  shook  out  her  chiffons. 

'  Then  it's  all  settled.  I  can  only  have 
twelve,  because  I  only  got  my  wedding  silver 
in  dozens." 

"  You  needn't  invite  us,"  said  Sallie,  "  be 
cause  we  are  going  to  Lakewood  Sunday  to  be 
gone  a  week." 

"  I  want  the  Jimmies  —  " 

"  And  us?  Can't  we  come?  "  I  begged.  I 
wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  worlds. 

"  You  bet  you  can,"  said  Hope.  "  I'll  need 
you.  Tell  Mrs.  Jimmie  not  to  make  any  other 
engagement  until  I  can  get  my  cards  out." 

"  Don't  you  worry,"  I  said.  "  Jimmie 
would  break  an  engagement  to  die  and  go  to 
heaven  for  a  chance  to  see  Bee  lock  horns 
with  Mrs.  Cox." 

"  I'll  ask  Laflin,"  said  Hope  suddenly, 
whereat  Bee  crimsoned  and  Bob  stuffed  a 
pliable  sofa  pillow  into  his  mouth. 

I  came  away  with  Hope  and  Sallie,  leaving 


Plans  305 

Bob  to  talk  to  Bee  about  Lyddy's  choice  of  a 
bridal  gown. 

"  Hope,"  I  said,  as  our  ways  parted,  "  make 
up  your  mind  for  warm  work  at  your  dinner. 
You  are  going  to  see  two  widows  at  their 
best!" 


CHAPTER   XXI 
LYDDY'S  FIRST  AND  BOB'S  SECOND  WEDDING 

MUCH  to  Lyddy's  horror,  Bob  in 
sisted  upon  being  married  on  Fri 
day,  and  as  they  were  to  sail  on 
Saturday,  he  had  a  reasonable  excuse. 

"  The  worse  the  day,  the  worse  the  deed," 
he  observed  gloomily.  "  I  only  wish  I  had 
thought  of  it  and  I'd  have  been  married  on 
Good  Friday.  Last  year  three  murderers  were 
put  to  death  on  that  day." 

Nevertheless,  under  Jimmie's  cheering  re 
minders  that  Lyddy  was  going  to  take  him  to 
London  for  the  season,  then  for  a  yachting 
cruise,  then  for  a  motoring  trip,  winding  up 
with  Monte  Carlo,  where  she  had  agreed  to 
stake  Bob  for  the  high  play  he  had  always 
longed  to  indulge  in,  Bob  revived. 

I  noticed  that  Jimmie's  manner  was  peculiar, 
as  he  was  painting  the  delights  which  lay  before 
the  bride  and  groom  of  European  travel  with 
almost  unlimited  means. 

We  all  knew  that  Jimmie  had  been  particu 
larly  fortunate  in  business  of  late,  for  Mrs. 
306 


Lyddy  and  Bob's  Wedding      307 

Jimmie  was  fairly  radiant  over  a  pearl  neck 
lace  which  Jimmie  had  managed  to  get  into  an 
eggshell  and  served  to  her  on  Easter  morning 
as  if  it  were  a  soft  boiled  egg. 

Aubrey's  play  had  been  produced  in  Plain- 
field  and  had  scored  a  success,  but  as  no  theatre 
was  available  on  Broadway,  the  managers  de 
cided  to  hold  its  New  York  production  over 
until  September,  so  we  had  an  empty  summer 
on  our  hands  and  no  fixed  plans. 

This,  however,  did  not  disturb  us,  as  plans 
only  annoy  us  and  hamper  our  freedom. 

Jimmie,  on  the  contrary,  likes  to  plan,  even 
if  he  changes  his  mind  every  day. 

For  another  thing,  he  had  come  to  like  Bob 
more  and  more  and  to  make  allowances  for 
his  obvious  faults.  I  think  he  felt  that  Bob 
was  getting  all  that  was  coming  to  him  in 
marrying  Lyddy,  and  that  it  ill  behooved  us  to 
play  the  part  of  avenging  angels  and  rub  it  in 
any  more.  So  that  on  Friday,  May  first,  Bob's 
wedding  day  and  the  day  of  Hope  Hamilton's 
farewell  dinner  to  the  bridal  pair,  Jimmie  and 
Bob  were  on  the  most  amicable  terms. 

Although  Lyddy  wanted  a  white  satin  wed 
ding,  Bob  and  Bee  finally  chloroformed  her 
into  a  lavender  crepe,  heavily  embroidered 
with  silver  bullion,  which  looked  better  on  her 
than  anything  she  had  ever  worn. 


308  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

She  also  wanted  bridesmaids  and  flower 
girls,  but  Bob  put  his  foot  down. 

"  Tis  not  decent,"  he  told  Aubrey  and  me, 
"  here  I  am  a  newly  made  grass-widower,  with 
the  sod  still  sticking  to  me.  I  haven't  been  a 
free  man  more  than  twenty  minutes  by  the 
clock,  and  for  Lyddy  to  want  to  take  the  fu 
neral  baked  meats  to  furnish  forth  the  wedding 
table  is  not  in  good  form.  Besides,  I  don't 
choose  to  have  you  four  gibbering  idiots  snick 
ering  at  my  misery  from  the  pews.  I  wish  we 
could  be  married  by  a  registrar  and  put  the 
announcement  in  that  I  once  read  in  a  western 
paper  — '  So  and  So  was  married  yesterday 
afternoon  to  So  and  So.  No  cards.  No  cake. 
No  pie.  Nobody's  damned  business ! ' 

We  cheered  him  as  best  we  could. 

They  were  married  from  Bee's  apartment 
by  the  same  clergyman  who  had  buried  James. 

This  was  Lyddy's  contribution  to  the  gen 
eral  cheerfulness  of  the  occasion.  But  Bee, 
whose  gleaming  eyes  could  not  help  betray 
ing  the  joy  she  felt  at  being  for  ever  rid 
of  her  incubus,  would  not  refuse  Lyddy  any 
thing,  on  this,  her  supreme  day,  so  there  was 
not  even  a  remonstrance  from  poor  Bee,  whose 
patience  under  Lyddy's  final  tortures  was  most 
beautiful. 

Lyddy  had  been  a  fiend  for  the  last  few 


Lyddy  and  Bob's  Wedding      309 

weeks.  Instead  of  being  softened  by  her  new 
joy,  she  seemed  alive  to  the  incongruity  of  the 
whole  affair,  and,  as  if  suspecting  all  that  we 
were  thinking,  she  took  it  out  on  all  of  us,  as 
if  we  had  voiced  our  every  thought. 

But  for  Bee's  sake  we  abstained  from  an 
open  break,  consoling  ourselves  with  the 
thought  that  this  was  the  end. 

It  was  in  such  a  temper  that  we  gathered  in 
Bee's  tiny  drawing-room  to  see  them  married. 

I  was  so  nervous  that  I  was  shaking  like  a 
leaf,  and  Aubrey  actually  had  to  hold  one  of 
my  hands  to  enable  me  to  bear  up  under  it. 

"  Be  calm,"  he  whispered  to  me  whimsically, 
"  you  needn't  take  it  so  hard.  Remember  it's 
not  you  who  are  marrying  Bob." 

I  smiled  faintly,  but  I  was  not  enjoying  my 
self. 

Bob  kept  his  eye  nervously  on  the  rug  dur 
ing  the  first  part  of  the  ceremony,  and  every 
thing  was  going  all  right,  until  they  came  to 
the  part  where  Bob  had  to  say :  — 

"  And  with  all  my  worldly  goods  I  thee  en 
dow,"  whereupon  the  graceless  scamp  looked 
directly  at  Jimmie  and  me  and  winked. 

"  Ah-gah !  "  observed  Jimmie  in  a  loud  tone. 
It  was  not  a  sneeze,  not  a  cough,  but  a  cross 
between  the  two,  and  instantly  the  blight  of 
grippe  seemed  to  descend  upon  the  entire  com- 


310  The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

pany,  for  such  a  session  of  sneezing  and  cough 
ing  seldom  graces  any  occasion  where  snuff 
is  not  also  present.  Or  hay  fever. 

Bob  was  delighted.  He  straightened  up 
and  made  the  final  responses  in  a  firm,  com 
posed  tone.  He  saluted  his  bride  bravely.  He 
accepted  our  congratulations  with  fortitude. 
It  made  him  master  of  the  occasion. 

We  toasted  the  bridal  couple  in  champagne, 
then  hurried  home  to  dress  for  dinner,  and  at 
eight  o'clock  we  gathered  at  the  Cedric  Hamil- 
tons'  for  one  of  the  most  amazing  spectacles 
of  modern  drawing-room  warfare. 


CHAPTER    XXII 

TWO    WIDOWS    AND    THEIR    WORK 

IF  the  great  game  of  life  were  simply  a 
husband-hunt,  it  could  not  have  been  bet 
ter    illustrated    than    at    Hope's    dinner, 
where  sat  Lyddy  and  Bob,   representing  the 
woman    who    boldly    outbid    another    woman 
for  a  husband  and  got  what  she  paid  for;  Mrs. 
Cox,  who  represented  the  Anne  Whitefields  of 
this  world  —  women  who  reach  out  and  grab 
the  man  they  want;    and  Bee,  the  artist,  Bee 
the  dainty  angler,  Bee,  the  Perfect  Widow! 

When  I  said  to  Jimmie  that  Bee  was  in  my 
opinion  the  Perfect  Widow,  Jimmie  said  that 
was  going  some,  for  widows  are  perforce  the 
most  kittle  of  female  cattle. 

Nevertheless,  besides  her  art,  the  work  of 
Mrs.  Cox  was  coarse  and  crude.  Mrs.  Cox 
evidently  accepted  the  fact  that  Jermyn  Lor- 
ing's  sister  had  invited  her  to  dine  in  this  inti 
mate  fashion  and  had  sent  her  in  on  Jermyn's 
arm,  to  indicate  that  she  was  a  satisfactory 
candidate  in  the  eyes  of  a  family  notoriously 
fastidious. 

3" 


312   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

I  may  be  conceited  —  Jimmie  says  I  am  — 
but  in  Mrs.  Cox's  place  I  never  could  have 
made  such  a  crass  mistake. 

I  would  have  asked  myself  a  few  common- 
sense  questions  before  my  mirror,  as,  for  ex 
ample,  what  there  was  to  recommend  a  forty- 
year-old  widow  of  small  means  and  few  at 
tractions  to  a  handsome,  athletic,  college  grad 
uate,  in  business  for  himself,  and  with  his 
father  and  mother  and  two  beautiful  sisters, 
unmistakably  in  the  best  society  which  New 
York  can  boast. 

But  some  women  seem  strangely  over-confi 
dent.  They  are  able  to  look  themselves 
squarely  in  the  face  and  then  bet  on  them 
selves  in  a  way  to  make  an  honest  gambler 
turn  pale. 

Sallie  Fitzhugh  would  have  been  invaluable 
that  evening,  for  Sallie  is  a  born  diplomat  and 
can  face  down  a  most  complicated  situation, 
while  poor  Hope,  who  is  still  only  a  bewitch 
ing,  grown-up  child,  more  boy  than  girl,  only 
kept  her  agonized  eyes  on  Jermyn  and  Mrs. 
Cox  until  Bob,  who  sat  at  her  right,  merci 
fully  took  her  mind  off  her  misery  and  made 
a  fool  of  himself  in  a  noble  cause. 

Lyddy  was  gorgeously  clad.  Bee's  artist 
hand  was  visible  in  her  every  costume.  She 
had  changed  her  wedding  gown  for  a  black 


Two  Widows  and  Their  Work  313 

gauze  dinner  dress,  trimmed  in  Persian  em 
broidery  with  much  colour  and  iridescence  in 
it.  It  had  butterflies  which  stood  out  and 
trembled  and  flashed  their  wings  in  the  light. 
Her  fan  and  slippers  were  made  to  match  and 
a  jewelled  butterfly  on  a  spiral  was  in  her 
hair,  so  that  old  Lyddy  really  looked  wonder 
fully  well  and  Bob  looked  as  if  he  could  have 
kissed  Bee  for  making  her  so. 

The  dinner  went  along  as  usual  for  the  first 
half  hour,  Bob  and  Cedric  Hamilton  discuss 
ing  the  relative  merits  of  French  and  Italian 
automobiles. 

Dr.  Bragg  having  been  carefully  placed,  at 
Bee's  suggestion,  directly  opposite  Mrs.  Cox 
and  Jermyn,  much  to  that  widow's  obvious 
annoyance,  gobbled  his  food  with  his  custom 
ary  robust  appetite  and  then,  having  satisfied 
the  first  evident  pangs  of  hunger,  he  had  lei 
sure  to  observe  the  methods  of  his  lady  love, 
which  he  proceeded  to  do  in  a  manner  fairly 
primitive  in  its  barbarism. 

Jermyn's  head  was  close  to  the  widow's,  and 
she  was  whispering  to  him  behind  her  fan. 

Dr.  Bragg  is  large  of  bone,  large  of  body, 
clumsy  of  finger  and  thick  of  ankle.  There 
fore  when  he  writhes  in  his  chair,  the  joints 
of  said  chair  groan.  When  he  fidgets  with  his 
hands,  he  drops  things. 


314    The   Concentrations  of  Bee 

The  butler  had  already  picked  up  two  forks 
and  given  him  another  salt  cellar  for  the  one 
he  had  upset,  when  Mrs.  Cox  came  another 
inch  out  of  her  low  cut  dinner  gown  and  de 
liberately  pressed  Jermyn's  hand  as  he  restored 
her  dropped  handkerchief. 

We  all  saw  it,  but  nobody  groaned  aloud 
except  the  doctor.  He  fairly  bellowed  in  his 
pain. 

It  was  a  sound  no  one  could  pass  over  in 
silence,  so  we  all  looked  at  him.  His  forehead 
was  red  and  beaded  with  drops  of  sheer  agony. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  doctor  ?  Are  you 
ill  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Cox  in  icy  accents. 

"No  —  no,  dear!  I  am  not  ill!"  stam 
mered  the  wretched  man. 

Jermyn  turned  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Cox. 

"  Why  does  that  man  call  you  '  dear  ?  '  "  he 
asked  quietly. 

"I  —  I  don't  know!  "  murmured  Mrs.  Cox. 
Then  recovering  herself,  she  said :  "  I  didn't 
notice  that  he  did.  But  it  is  a  little  way  of 
his  to  call  women  he  likes  such  names!  Isn't 
it,  doctor?" 

"  It  is  not!  "  he  roared.  "  And  you  know 
it!" 

If  Mrs.  Jimmie  had  kept  still,  the  thing 
would  not  have  ended  there,  but  in  her  dear, 
gentle  way,  she  restored  a  harmony  which 


Two  Widows  and  Their  Work  315 

none  of  us  wanted  to  see  restored,  by  saying 
in  her  kindest  manner : 

"  Doctors  do  so  much  good  in  this  world, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  they  are  sometimes  over 
wrought  and  nervous.  You  have  been  work 
ing  very  continuously,  haven't  you,  doc 
tor?" 

Everybody  avoided  looking  at  everybody 
else.  Jimmie  stared  hard  at  the  end  of  his 
cigarette,  but  his  smile  slowly  widened  and 
finally  he  met  my  eye. 

We  never  think  of  taking  Mrs.  Jimmie  into 
any  of  our  little  plots  —  first,  because  she 
wouldn't  understand  them;  secondly,  because 
she  would  disapprove  of  them,  and  thirdly, 
because  she  so  seldom  upsets  them  that  it  is  an 
unnecessary  precaution. 

This  was  one  of  the  exceptions  which 
proved  the  rule. 

But  Jermyn  was  clever.  And  he  was  a 
Loring,  one  of  a  family  noted  for  their  loyalty 
to  each  other.  He  had  been  annoyed  by  the 
remarks  of  his  sisters  about  Mrs.  Cox,  never 
theless  he  had  been  cautioned  by  them  more 
than  he  had  been  willing  to  admit.  He  knew 
that  both  Sallie  and  Hope  adored  him  and 
had  no  thought  in  mind  but  his  own  welfare 
and  happiness.  Furthermore,  he  had  what 
many  a  brother  would  be  better  off  if  he  cul- 


316   The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

tivated,  and  that  is,  a  belief  that  a  clever 
woman's  estimate  of  another  woman  is  sure  to 
come  true  in  the  long  run. 

He  had  been  sadly  upset  by  his  sisters'  at 
tacks  on  Mrs.  Cox,  but  he  was  under  the  spell 
of  her  fascinations,  and  there  comes  a  time  in 
every  boy's  life  when  an  older  woman  fills  his 
imagination  in  a  way  no  pretty  girl  can  hope 
to  rival. 

Jermyn  was  in  this  stage  when  his  sister's 
famous  Rescue  Dinner  began,  but  I  could  see 
that  Dr.  Bragg's  evident  agony  Over  Mrs. 
Cox's  flirtatious  manner  and  the  widow's 
secret  annoyance,  which  became  every  moment 
more  obvious,  were  not  unobserved  by  the 
young  man.  Consequently  my  opinion  of  him 
rose  in  leaps  and  bounds.  I  have  so  long  cher 
ished  a  rooted  conviction  that  men  in  love 
were  hopeless  fools  that  this  evidence  on  Jer- 
myn's  part  to  look  before  he  leaped,  gave  me 
much  joy. 

This  time  the  tables  seemed  to  be  turned. 
Ordinarily  it  is  the  woman  who  observes  the 
small  signs  and  goes  cautiously,  and  the  man 
who  loses  his  head  and  rushes  to  his  doom. 
But  the  more  Jermyn  observed  Dr.  Bragg's 
nervous  and  troubled  mien ;  the  more  he  lis 
tened  to  the  doctor's  endeavours  to  attract  Mrs. 
Cox's  attention ;  the  more  pronounced  grew 


Two  Widows  and  Their  Work  317 

that  lady's  snubs  to  the  long-suffering  man, 
the  more  Jermyn  withdrew  into  his  shell  and 
the  more  ardently  the  widow  went  after 
him. 

Hope's  eyes  were  sparkling  in  triumph  along 
about  the  salad,  but  as  for  me,  I  had  so  many 
other  distractions  that  I  lost  track  of  that 
affair  every  once  in  a  while,  in  my  acute  inter 
est  in  the  others. 

Laflin  had  never  been  so  pronounced  in  his 
attentions  to  Bee  as  he  was  that  night.  Hope 
had  sent  him  in  with  Bee,  and  the  manner  of 
both  Hope  and  Cedric  indicated  that  Laflin's 
choice  met  with  their  entire  approval. 

But,  whether  from  Mrs.  Cox's  open  hunt, 
or  from  some  secret  reason,  Bee's  manner  to 
Laflin  was  cool  and  distant,  while  she  was 
more  than  charming  to  Cedric  Hamilton,  on 
whose  left  she  was  seated  —  Lyddy,  the  bride, 
having  the  seat  of  honour  on  his  right. 

And  it  made  Laflin  nervous.  Bee  looked 
simply  stunning  in  white  chiffon  and  no  jewels, 
and,  to  Lyddy's  fury,  younger  than  we  had 
ever  seen  her.  I  think  it  was  a  coup  de  theatre 
of  Bee's  to  come  out  in  a  gown  emphasizing 
her  own  youth  fulness,  on  the  day  that  Lyddy 
would  have  given  a  fortune  for  Bee's  lack  of 
years. 

Bee's  hair  was  done  low  in  her  neck  and  tied 


31 8    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

with  a  big  white  bow,  such  as  young  girls 
wear,  and  while  it  was  as  mean  a  thing  as  only 
a  woman  can  think  up,  nobody  could  blame 
her  for  this  final  stab  at  the  redoubtable  sister- 
in-law,  who  had  helped  to  make  her  life  un 
comfortable  for  years  and  years. 

Nor  was  the  final  triumph  of  displaying  the 
devotion  of  the  handsomest  young  millionaire 
in  town  lacking  to  complete  her  triumph,  and 
the  more  indifferent  Bee  became,  as  Jermyn 
whispered  to  me,  "  the  more  Laflin  humped 
himself." 

Finally  Jimmie  fired  the  bomb  he  had  been 
considering,  as  I  could  see,  for  weeks. 

"  What  sort  of  a  machine  are  you  getting, 
Bob?"  he  asked. 

'  Think  we'll  get  an  Isotta,"  answered  Bob, 
carelessly.  "  We  want  to  hit  her  up,  rather. 
So  I  propose  to  get  a  machine  warranted  to 
pass  anything  on  the  road." 

Jimmie's  cigar  began  to  breathe  and  blink. 

"  Don't  believe  you'll  be  able  to  do  that,"  he 
said. 

"  Why  not?  "  demanded  Bob. 

"  Because  I  am  going  to  take  an  American 
machine  over,  and  I'll  bet  that  you  never  can 
catch  us." 

I  gasped,  but  Jimmie  heard  me.  He  turned 
and  grinned  in  my  direction. 


Two  Widows  and  Their  Work  319 

"  Think  you  and  Aubrey  could  join  us  for 
the  summer?"  he  said. 

I  gave  an  ecstatic  bounce  in  my  chair,  then 
looked  at  Bee.  But  the  widow's  eyes  were 
discreetly  cast  down,  so  that  she  was  also  miss 
ing  the  look  of  entreaty  from  Laflin. 

"  I  don't  like  that  arrangement  at  all,"  said 
the  bride,  excitedly.  "  I  want  to  get  away 
from  people  we  know,  and  I  don't  propose  to 
go  chasing  at  breakneck  speed  after  the  Jim 
mies'  automobile,  or  to  have  them  always  chas 
ing  us.  So  let  that  end  the  matter  before  it 
begins !  " 

Everybody  looked  anxiously  at  Bob,  but  his 
glance  never  wavered. 

"  I  may  buy  just  a  racer  with  only  room 
for  myself  and  the  chauffeur  for  my  own 
sport,"  he  said  quietly.  "  But  I  rather  think 
it  will  be  an  Isotta.  However,  I  shall  leave 
the  final  decision  to  Mrs.  Mygatt.  What  shall 
it  be,  Lydia?" 

Lyddy's  fan  snapped.  She  glared  at  us, 
like  an  animal  at  bay.  Then  she  spoke,  albeit 
with  a  dry  mouth. 

"  I  will  be  satisfied  with  anything  you  de 
cide,  Bob,  only  —  I  would  like  to  go  with 
you!" 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Bob.  Then  turning  to 
Jirnmie,  he  said,  "  An  Isotta  touring  car!  " 


320    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  How  jolly  it  would  be,"  said  Jermyn,  lean 
ing  forward,  "  if  \ve  could  all  meet  over  there 
somewhere  this  summer!  " 

"  Why,  are  you  thinking  of  going?  "  asked 
Hope,  so  eagerly  that  she  clasped  her  hands  on 
the  table  in  front  of  her. 

"  I  had  thought  of  it,"  said  Jermyn.  "  The 
Willings  have  ordered  a  new  Mercedes,  and 
Cynthia  rather  wants  me  to  join  them  at  Aix 
for  a  month's  tour  of  France." 

Hope  nearly  chanted  the  Te  Deum  in  her 
joy,  for  it  had  been  a  quarrel  with  Cynthia 
Willing  which  had  precipitated  Mrs.  Cox  into 
the  arena. 

Jermyn  took  this  way  of  letting  Hope  know 
of  his  change  of  heart. 

For  reply,  Hope  only  held  out  her  hand  and 
Jermyn  wrung  it  without  a  word. 

Bee  looked  up  and  smiled.  Mrs.  Cox  saw 
this  and  evidently  was  capable  of  putting  two 
and  two  together,  for  she  murmured  her  apolo 
gies  for  leaving  early,  and  made  as  if  to  rise. 

At  that  moment  Hope  rose  from  the  table 
and  ordered  coffee  served  in  the  drawing- 
room.  Jimmie  and  I  were  the  last  to  leave  the 
dining-room,  except  Bee,  whom  Laflin  openly 
detained  by  taking  her  hand  in  his,  regardless 
of  the  English  butler. 

The   ceiling    to    Hope's    dining-room    is    a 


Two  Widows  and  Their  Work  321 

dome  and  has  a  curious  echo,  which  accounts 
for  my  halting  Jimmie  at  the  door  with  a  gasp 
of  astonishment,  for  these  words  sounded 
from  the  side  wall  in  front  of  us : 

"  Take  me,  Bee !  I've  done  everything  you 
wanted  me  to.  I've  given  up  everything  I 
knew  you  couldn't  stand,  and  I've  at  last  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  I  can't  live  without 
you!" 

Jimmie  forgot  to  smoke  in  his  excitement. 
Of  course  we  ought  to  have  gone  on  or  stopped 
our  ears  or  done  something  honourable.  But 
we  didn't.  We  stood  still  and  —  listened. 

"  Well,"  said  Bee,  with  a  little  laugh,  "  when 
I  come  to  the  same  conclusion,  after  similar 
deliberation  and  caution,  I  will  let  you  know. 
At  present  it  is  my  intention  to  join  the  Jim 
mies  for  a  summer  of  motoring  abroad !  " 

Jimmie  kicked  at  my  skirts  and  we  went 
through  the  doorway  in  an  ecstasy  of  silent 
laughter. 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Laflin  in  a  troubled 
voice,  which  held  a  new  note  of  manliness  in 
it,  "  I  shall  buy  a  motor  and  follow  you,  even 
if  it  is  to  the  ends  of  the  earth." 

Bee  cleared  her  throat  as  she  always  does 
when  she  is  pleased. 

Jimmie  wrenched  my  little  finger  and  stam 
mered  : 


322    The  Concentrations  of  Bee 

"  For  good  work  —  work  with  a  fine,  do 
mestic  finish  —  work  which  will  bear  the  clos 
est  inspection  and  compare  favourably  with 
that  of  any  other  artist  in  her  line  —  give  me, 
-  oh,  give  me,  I  say,  the  work  of  the  widdy 
Lathrop!" 


THE    END. 


From 

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of  New  Fiction 

DAVID  BRAN 

By   MORLEY    ROBERTS,    author   of   "  Rachel   Marr,"    "  The 

Idlers,"  etc. 

Cloth  decorative,   with    frontispiece  in   color  by  Frank  T. 

Merrill $1.50 

In  "  David  Bran  "  Mr.  Roberts  presents  in  a  new  light  the  old 
story  of  a  man  and  two  women.  Characterized  as  this  book 
is  by  the  skilful  achievement  which  distinguished  "  Rachel 
Marr,"  its  interest  is  strengthened  by  a  remarkable  defence  of 
heterodox  doctrines  and  the  surprising  and  courageous  conclusion 
to  which  the  author  draws  his  novel. 

"  Among  living  novelists  Morley  Roberts  holds  a  high  place; 
but  '  David  Bran  '  will  enormously  strengthen  his  reputation."— 
Rochester  Post-Express. 

"  Few  writers  of  the  day  so  thoroughly  comprehend  the 
educational  and  fictional  value  of  suffering,  and  few  books 
present  so  fine  a  problem.  It  is,  in  fact,  so  fine  that  any  statement 
of  it  sounds  crude,  almost  coarse,  and  the  book  must  be  read  to 
be  comprehended."  —  Chicago  Daily  News. 

"  As  to  the  hearts  of  men  and  of  some  women,  he  is  cynical. 
But  he  draws  capital  pictures  of  the  gossiping  old  men  of  Tres- 
cas  —  and  when  he  is  sounding  for  us  the  deeps  in  the  natures  of 
Lou  Trevarris,  Kate  Poldrew  and  even  David  Bran,  the  name  of 
his  writer's  gift  is  Wonderful."  —  N.  Y.  World. 

THE  QUEST  FOR  THE  ROSE  OF  SHARON 

By  BURTON  E.  STEVENSON,  author  of  "  The  Marathon  Mys 
tery,"  "  The  Holladay  Case,"  etc. 

Illustrated,  cloth  decorative $1.25 

This  tale  of  mystery  and  its  solution  contains  all  the  elements 
which  go  to  make  a  fascinating  story,  in  which  one's  sympathies 
are  awakened  over  the  impending  misfortunes  of  the  little  heroine 
and  her  family,  and  one's  curiosity  is  excited  to  the  utmost  by 
the  methods  employed  to  bring  to  a  successful  termination  a 
quest  which  is  not  accomplished  until  the  very  last  chapter  is 
reached. 

The  author's  style  is  quaint  and  charming  and  the  characters 
all  flesh  and  blood. 


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ANNE  OF  AVONLEA 

By  L.  M.  MONTGOMERY,  author  of  "  Anne  of  Green  Gables." 

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Anne  Shirley  (Anne  of  Green  Gables)  is  beyond  question  the 
most  popular  girl  heroine  in  recent  fiction,  and  the  reading  public 
will  be  glad  to  hear  more  of  her.  In  the  present  volume  Anne  is 
as  fascinating  as  ever,  and  the  author  has  introduced  several  new 
characters,  including  the  highly  imaginative  and  charming  little 
boy,  Paul  Irving,  whose  quaint  sayings  will  recall  to  the  reader 
the  delightful  Anne  on  her  first  appearance  at  Green  Gables. 
Some  opinions  regarding  Anne  of  Green  Gables: 
"  In  '  Anne  of  Green  Gables  '  you  will  find  the  dearest  and 
most  moving  and  delightful  child  since  the  immortal  Alice."  — 
Mark  Twain  in  a  letter  to  Francis  Wilson. 

"  I  see  that  she  has  become  one  of  the  popular  young  ladies  of 
the  season,  but  I  can  assure  you  that  if  she  had  no  one  else  to 
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I  take  it  as  a  great  test  of  the  worth  of  the  book  that  while  the 
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the  head  of  the  family  has  carried  her  off  to  read  on  his  way  to 
town."  —  Bliss  Carman. 
An  English  opinion: 

"  At  long  intervals  there  is  sent  across  the  Atlantic  a  book 
which  lives  in  the  public  memory  for  years.  Such  were  '  Helen's 
Babies '  and  '  Little  Lord  Fauntleroy,'  and  '  Anne  of  Green 
Gables  '  deserves  to  make  an  equal  sensation."  —  The  Notting 
ham  (England)  Guardian. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

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Story." 

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A  thrilling  tale  of  mistaken  identity,  the  scene  of  which 
is  laid  for  the  most  part  in  England  of  the  present  day.  It  is 
a  graphic  story  of  human,  forceful  life;  of  despair  crowding  a 
man  even  while  a  woman's  love  seeks  to  surround  him;  of 
trickery  and  guilelessness;  of  vengeance  robbed;  of  the  unwilling 
masquerader  who  unknowingly  follows  the  lead  of  justice  away 
from  the  bitter  of  crime  and  the  sweet  of  love,  on  to  a  new 
shore  and  through  the  mazes  of  English  aristocratic  life,  till  he 
rests  at  last  where  no  man  can  foresee  who  has  not  been  with 
Love  ft  Pioneer. 


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THE  MYSTERY  OF  MISS  MOTTE 

By  CAROLINE  ATWATER  MASON,  author  of  "  The  Binding  of 

the  Strong,"  "  A  Lily  of  France,"  etc. 

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Mrs.  Mason's  story  is  a  delightful  combination  of  mystery  and 
romance.  The  heroine,  a  young  woman  of  remarkable  per 
sonality  and  charm,  is  persuaded,  on  account  of  disclosures  made 
by  her  mother,  into  a  promise  never  to  marry,  and  hence  holds 
herself  aloof,  which  but  adds  zest  to  the  pursuit  of  her  several 
admirers.  The  unravelling  of  the  truth  concerning  her  birth,  and 
its  effect  on  the  mother,  solves  the  mystery  to  the  reader  and 
brings  the  romance  to  a  happy  termination  in  a  dramatic  climax. 

The  other  characters  in  the  book,  the  worldly  clergyman;  his 
asnistant,  a  young  man  of  his  ideals;  the  society  woman  of 
wealth  and  her  invalid  husband  with  scientific  proclivities,  as 
well  as  the  morbid  mother,  are  all  splendidly  drawn. 

THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  QUINCY  ADAMS 
SAWYER  AND  MASON  CORNER  FOLKS 

By  CHARLES  FELTON  PIDGIN,   author  of    "  Quincy  Adams 
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Some  eight  years  ago,  "  Quincy  Adams  Sawyer  and  Mason 
Corner  Folks  "  was  published,  being  heralded,  truthfully,  as  the 
work  of  an  "  unknown  author."  The  book  met  with  instant 
recognition  by  the  critics  and  public,  and  proved  one  of  the 
"  best  sellers  in  recent  years.  Hundreds  of  letters  have  come 
to  the  author  from  unknown  correspondents  all  over  the  country 
asking  if  they  are  not  going  to  hear  more  about  "  Quincy  "  and 
the  other  characters  in  the  book.  The  present  story  has  all  the 
popular  appeal  of  the  earlier  book  and  should  repeat  its  success. 

MASTERS  OF  CIRCUMSTANCE 

By  THEODORE  ROBERTS,  author  of  "  Hemming,  the  Adven 
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times  in  Virginia,  although  part  of  the  action  takes  place  upon 
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early  days  in  Virginia,  the  chivalry  of  its  men  and  the  beauty 
of  its  women,  have  never  been  surpassed. 


L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 


TAG:  YOU'RE  IT;  OR  THE  CHIEN  BOULE  DOG 

By  VALANCE  J.  PATRIARCHE. 

Illustrated.     Cloth  decorative $1.00 

An  amusing  story  of  a  newly  married  couple,  whose  honey 
moon  is  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  a  lost  child,  and  a  dog, 
decidedly  a  dog.  The  young  wife,  whose  kindly  interest  in  the 
forlorn  little  fellow  traveller,  "  Bateese  "  and  his  "  Chien  Boule 
Dog,"  results  in  all  sorts  of  complications,  the  young  husband, 
and  last,  though  not  least,  the  boy,  "  Bateese,"  who  is  sublimely 
unconscious  of  being  the  central  figure  in  what  proves  almost  a 
tragedy  (at  least  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  man  cheated  out  of 
his  noneymoon)  are  all  drawn  with  a  fine  humor. 

The  story  is  an  exquisite  bit  of  humor  which  will  be  read  again 
and  again. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000130552     3 


